


lift your open hand

by plaxhums



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff, Gay Keith (Voltron), M/M, Oblivious Lance (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Slow Burn, also featuring supportive friendships between everyone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-06-30 20:51:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15759453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaxhums/pseuds/plaxhums
Summary: There's an ease that Keith feels when he's around Lance. It isn't forced, though they had worked hard to get there over the last two and a half years. To this place they're at now, the progress wasn't always moving forward and up - but the time was worth it.or, the one where Keith is going to tell him. He’s terrified, but he’s going to tell Lance.





	1. Chapter 1

He’s not sure at what point everyone finally conditioned him to just walk into Hunk and Lance’s place without knocking and waiting for someone to open the door - Shiro adamantly insisted he raised him better, which he technically didn’t. Raise him. - but the point still stood that is was almost like assuming his place too much and he might feel the same way still. Despite the open door policy when someone was invited and they knew what time someone was going to show up.  
  
Keith just shoved it deep, deep down because he didn’t think he could withstand another uncomfortable, pseudo-parenting talk from Lance and Hunk about how much they loved him and how much he was wanted between their whole-body shakes and poorly concealed snorts. Avoiding that at all costs was worth the price of admission, feeling like he was breaking and entering. So, he toed off his shoes, aligned them with Lance’s by the doorway and tossed his bag on the couch because he would fling himself into space before sitting through another Hunk and Lance-style intervention. He just wouldn’t ever tell Shiro.  
  
Music pumped through the apartment and he could faintly hear Lance singing and humming the songs to himself in the kitchen.  
  
As he walked past the large armchair in the living room, claws shot out from underneath it and latched onto his pant leg.  
  
Keith stopped momentarily to glance down at the large blue eyes staring up at him, head lolled back as he continued to walk again, carefully dragging the cat with him. “Hey, Toast.”  
  
He turned the corner and, sure enough, there was Lance singing and dancing his way around the kitchen between chopping vegetables and checking the various pots on the stove.  
  
It smelled _incredible_ and after a day spent in a stuffy university hall that smelled like stifling debt and some acidic mix of espresso and energy drinks, it pulled a pleased hum from him as he slumped down at the dining table. He didn’t even mind the tiny pin pricks of death as Toast koala’d her way up his leg and into his lap before she struck a paw against his chest to catch in his shirt.  
  
Lance didn’t look in his direction, but he chuckled as he added seasoning into one of the pots. “Aw, long day, babe?”  
  
Keith rolled his eyes as Lance slid across the floor to dice something else up. “You’re going to fall doing that one day and crack your skull against the floor and I won’t be able to do anything for you because I’ll be over here. Laughing. Not helping.” He huffed through his nose and and scratched down the soft fur of Toast’s nose. “And, yeah, a long day.”  
  
This time Lance looked up at him before humming thoughtfully to himself. He shuffled his way over to the small island in the kitchen, tapping the screen of his phone to change the song. “Weeell, would it possibly make it better if I told you I was making my mom’s salsa for dinner tonight?”  
  
“You know it just might,” Keith said as he feigned mulling the thought over to look off into another corner of the room. “Not mild, right?”  
  
Lance gasped loudly, sending Toast shooting out of Keith’s lap into the kitchen, her claws scrabbling across the linoleum as she threw on the breaks and catapulted herself into Lance’s chest. “How dare you, of course it isn’t. We’re not animals, Keith. You better hope she doesn’t sense you saying that in the same room as her dearly beloved recipe.”  
  
“All the way from Cuba?”  
  
“Don’t even joke like that. You _know_ she could.” Lance narrowed his eyes as he curled Toast protectively into him, her fluffed tail swishing against the warn denim of Lance’s jeans.  
  
Not for the first time, embarrassingly enough, he noted the similarity in the blue of Lance and Toast’s eyes. It was incredibly hard to miss when they both seemed to just judge Keith with the same amount of open amusement. “Did you adopt Toast just because of the eyes and stuff or?”  
  
Lance’s face went through a slow transition, his head quirked to the side and arched his eyebrows as they pulled an invisible string that caused his nose scrunch up at Keith’s weird subject change. He glanced down where the cat’s white fur matched the t-shirt he had on, minus the dusty orange (toasted) trails around her face and at the end of her tail. He laughed and smirked back up at Keith. “It’s called aesthetic, Keith. We just naturally have good fashion sense.”  
  
“You’re just wearing a t-shirt and jeans, right now? And your bomber jacket is debatable.”  
  
“A classic combo no one could _not_ like though and how _dare_ you? You just wear black literally all of the time and have probably had the same pair of black jeans since like freshmen year of high school when you heard Fall Out Boy for the first time. You’re uninvited from any salsa.”  
  
Which was wrong.  
  
The bomber jacket was ridiculously comfortable the one time Lance loaned it to him and the extra long sleeves combined with the amount of pocket space in them were perfect to completely cover his hands.  
  
And he didn’t _always_ wear black, it was just better for his job, and Shiro had bought him several different colored things in the past - even if they still leaned toward the darker shades of red or green and gray. Not to mention, Lance had personally seen to it that his wardrobe had seen some _‘color resuscitation’_ through birthdays and Christmases. The back-and-forth was familiar and had warmed into something else entirely from its original start as a genuine petty argument they’d gotten themselves into early on.  
  
Lance pointed his nose up and sniffed before looking down to scratch underneath Toast’s chin. She stretched her neck and appreciatively set her paw against Lance’s chest. Keith could hear her purr from where he sat as her eyes drooped in pure bliss.  
  
“Besides, no one can say no to those baby blues.”  
  
_Hammer meet nail head._  
  
“Clearly. She obviously runs the house.”  
  
“Well, yeah. Why do you think we were in the cat market in the first place?”  
  
The song that had been pulsing through the room cut out as an alarm went off on Lance’s phone, spurring Toast out of his hold as Lance reached to silence it. She disappeared with a tail flick down the hall into the one of the bedrooms. Without missing a beat - literally, since Lance insisted on shimmying his way around the kitchen in half formed dance moves - he put the lid over a pot and swayed comically towards the fridge to pull out more food.  
  
He had seen Lance in the middle of other domestic duties, but his focus on cleaning bordered on scary and laundry day usually ended up tossed around the room if he had company. Keith and Lance weren’t really allowed to be at the apartment by themselves for that reason. It had taken an embarrassingly long amount of time to get a sock off of the ceiling fan in the living room after one particular sock ball war. The ceiling was weirdly high in there. The Final Straw had been when Hunk came across a missing pair of Lance’s underwear that had been lost in the scramble and overlooked where it landed on top of the fridge towards the back corner.  
  
The time he had to give Toast a bath was iconic. Keith had never laughed so hard in his life and he prided himself to this day on managing to bite back a _sound_ when Lance grabbed the back of his soaking wet t-shirt to haul it off and the smooth planes of his back were just _there_. Keith had never noticed the dusted constellations of freckles across Lance’s shoulders or the cluster that dipped down his back, following the line of his spine before curling toward his hip.  
  
He did all of it with music in the background, but none of the other chores really gave him the freedom of moving through practiced dips and if there was a wait for a timer to go off, he had the habit of pulling whoever he had by him into a dance. Lance had valiantly tried to teach Keith a very simplified version of salsa while one of Hunk’s casserole’s was in the oven and even if he had made it incredibly clumsy in comparison to Lance’s practiced ease and natural ability, it was nice and had the stress of finals sliding off of their shoulders - if only for a moment. Not that this was solely something he waited for with baited breath - that would be…incredibly solid blackmail material for Pidge.  
  
But to this day, the one pasta night Lance and Hunk had improvised a very impassioned ballroom number that took them through almost every room of the apartment while Keith and Pidge just trailed after them with their mouths hanging open remained immortalized.  
  
The songs that played now were slower, definitely one of those reflection ‘relationship vibe’ playlist holes Lance tended to fall into on an app.  
  
A lot of them Keith would never admit to secretly recording pieces of specific songs to search for later.  
  
The comfortable silence relaxed him further as Lance started to sing under his breath. If he stayed quiet and didn’t make any sudden movements the moment wouldn’t break. For all of his show and shower performance encores and over-acted karaoke nights, Lance had a nice voice. Keith had thoroughly dug himself into a hole early on in their misplaced irritability by griping about Lance’s singing following another one of Lance’s tirades about Keith’s hair. The shot was cheap and even Pidge had even given him her trademark ‘what-the-hell’ look.  
  
It was a different time and Keith, who was horrible with words, managed to still string residual word vomit into a barbed comment about all of the singing and wanting quiet and he was just really dumb, okay? Old arguments were only brought back up to lightheartedly tease each other, but the singing thing still sort of stuck. If Keith was around, Lance would do his best to sound as much like Scuttle as he could without completely wrecking his vocal chords. It made Keith laugh, Lance’s usual goal anyways.  
  
_“What if I dive deep?”_  
  
Things were getting better with them all of the time though.  
  
_“Will you come in after me?”_  
  
They were closer now and pieces of their defenses they hid behind humor were continually dropping.  
  
_“Would you share your flaws with me?”_  
  
Even Hunk had divulged to him that he thought Lance and Keith had made leaps and bounds in their relationship. Hunk approval was always nice to have, especially when it involved Lance. They stopped calling each other out on stupid shit and their friends had shown to be a lot more relaxed since Lance and Keith _‘found their chill.’_  
  
So, if he wanted to keep hearing Lance and didn’t want to admit things he was in no way ever ready to admit, he had to disappear off of Lance’s radar. Keith slunk further into his chair as Lance’s gentle croon slowly got louder, even enchanting Toast to come back into the room and flop down lazily onto the dining table beside Keith’s arm where she happily thumped her tail.  
  
Keith exhaled slowly and felt his eyelids grow heavy.

 

* * *

 

It seemed like seconds later a hand was pressing a warm brand into his shoulder blade.  
  
_“Keith, dude.”_  
  
He blinked, trying to make sense of who he even was as he saw a bolt of white fur zoom off of the cool surface he was resting on.  
  
“Hm?”  
  
Lance laughed, “Man, that class must have been terrible for you to actually take a nap awkwardly scrunched over our table like that. Your back is going to kill you.”  
  
It was that sound that brought him back into the land of living. The warm reverberation deep in Lance’s chest that Keith could swear he felt come down through his arm where it bloomed against Keith’s shoulder. “I’m awake.”  
  
“I’m glad my singing didn’t derail your beauty nap.”  
  
Keith’s head shot up, causing Lance’s hand to fall from where it rested. His skin tingled where Lance’s warm fingertips ghosted down the side of his back. He tried in vain to fight a yawn that threatened to yank his soul out his body and only managed a delirious jumble of words. _“Idonn’ hay’re singing. Nnnce.”_  
  
He was still too locked in the land between sleep and awake to decipher the look that passed over Lance’s face as his eyes got larger and his brow did this funny thing Keith doesn’t ever remember it doing. Whatever he could have seen or learned when Lance opened his mouth to answer in the moment was broken when another alarm cut off the soft beat of music and startled Lance away from him. Keith stood up and stretched, he closed his eyes when his back popped satisfyingly, missing the look Lance shot him when he groaned under his breath.  
  
“I’ve almost got things wrapped up here, all that’s left is the stuff Hunk’s fixing when he gets here. He texted me that they were in line at the grocery store a few minutes ago. Which means you can’t go back to sleep because Pidge is going to be here soon. I’m saving you from being at her mercy since she’s still out for blood from the last time.”  
  
“Okay, that was all you. You threw me under the bus for what _you_ did.”  
  
“ _Anyways_ , don’t go back to sleep. I don’t think I could explain to Shiro why you have to go to the doctor because your hand got glued to your face or something. So, you won’t need to do anything but just like chill on the couch and watch TV or something. You know, the usual make-yourself-at-home bit. I’ve gotta jump in the shower.”  
  
“Why? You look fine to me.”  
  
Lance cleared his throat. “Well, I kind of have a date tonight, so I need to get cleaned up.”  
  
Keith scrubbed his hands over his eyes to make sure he heard Lance right. “A date?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“On dinner night?” Wait, Keith had this right, right? It was Thursday when he fell asleep. God, what if they had just let him sleep there and he’s having one of those _‘What year is it?!?!’_ panics. What if this was Pidge and Lance working together to prank him for falling asleep in the first place.  “Lance, you’re the one that made such a big deal about finding a solid friend tradition and insisted on keeping to it. Do you not remember that one time I had the flu and said I might not be better in time to make it?”  
  
“Yes, Keith. I remem-,“ Lance huffed and threw his arms down to his sides.  
  
“Dude, you monologued in Spanish at me for seven minutes while I was out of it on medicine and just sat through it sadly eating saltines waiting on you to _breathe_. You said something about no exceptions or substitutions or something like that.”  
  
“Again, yes. I remember.” Lance then did the three things that meant he was very nervous and genuinely struggled to read how something might play out in a given situation. A reaction Keith understood as Lance feeling like he was backed into a corner. Lance scuffed his toe against the floor, nervously scratched the back of his head, and worked to clear his throat twice. “I- uh, you know we’re not official yet and this was the night we’re both not in class or working and I want to do that. To take that next step. I want to ask him if he maybe wants to take it there. Like _official_. Exclusive, y’know?  
  
“And like I get it’s probably not a big deal and I don’t need to make it a Thing. I could just as easily slide into his DMs all smooth-“  
  
“Please don’t say that sentence ever again.”  
  
“And be all, ‘hey so I really like talking with you and doing outings, so like maybe we can _date_ date. I haven’t really been talking to anyone else and I’m interested to see where this could go’ and use those emoji finger guns, but you know me, Keith. You know timing is everything and you know I’m extra and a hopeless romantic so it has to be _more_ than that.”  
  
Keith smirked. “Hopeless is definitely a good word for it.”  
  
It seemed to do the trick to break Lance out of his reeling headspace enough to get him to smile and cross the space between them to cuff Keith on the shoulder. _“Dude.”_  
  
Keith counted it as a point for him. “But it’s fine.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yes, Lance. We just won’t promise leftovers.”  
  
“You’re a merciless heathen.”  
  
“It’s going to go well, though.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“The date. You guys have been talking and doing that not a _date_ date thing for awhile. Even if I have no idea how that makes sense or what the difference is. From what I haven’t asked to hear, yet you regale with vivid detail, you guys are on the same page.” He definitely shouldn’t be the one to give Lance advice. Especially if he was basing it on his personal track record. What he did say sounded safe, to him at least. He and Lance weren’t exactly known for just telling the other what they wanted to hear.  
  
Lance himself seemed to be mulling the same thing over as he crossed his arms and leaned his head back, considering Keith. “You’re being oddly supportive.”  
  
Keith shrugged. “I’d do just about anything for salsa.”  
  
“You’re the worst, mullet. But - uh- thanks.”  
  
_“Salsa.”_  
  
Lance huffed through his nose and went back to setting out the rest of the ingredients and pans Hunk would need when he got here. Hunk most likely already knew, which meant Keith and Pidge were his anomalies. At least with Keith it was mostly promised not to involve with a projectile. So - two down, Pidge and his impending death to go. Keith did not envy him in this moment.

 

* * *

 

**Snapchat from Lancelot 👑**  
**To ARealHunk❤️**  
  
_so this is a thing_  
  
Hunk glanced up at Pidge checking out the register aisle candy before he looked back down and tapped the screen to open the next snap. It was a picture of Keith sitting at their table with one arm crossed in front of him and the other holding his head up, asleep.  
  
**From ARealHunk❤️**  
**To Lancelot 👑**  
  
_okay, that’s adorable_  
_please tell me you haven’t pranked him_  
_and didn’t send this to pidge_  
  
**From Lancelot 👑**  
**To ARealHunk❤️**  
  
_no, i don’t feel like dying today thanks_  
_and also no? i’m gonna wake him up in a minute. we’ve finally gotten to this good place where we’re cool  
and i don’t want him to expect me to mess with him every time you’re not here to stop me_  
  
**From ARealHunk❤️**  
**To Lancelot 👑**  
  
_i feel like i should call your mom and tell her how much you’ve grown lol_  
  
**From Lancelot 👑**  
**To ARealHunk❤️**  
  
_besides a professional knows timing is key_  
_a good prank only happens when their guard is down_  
  
**From ARealHunk❤️**  
**To Lancelot 👑**  
  
_aaand there it is_

 

* * *

 

Like he said, he didn’t envy Lance.  
  
Keith knew for a fact that he told Hunk first, obviously, because Hunk was reason and Lance probably had the most to make up to him for willingly passing up Hunk’s cooking and that he, Keith, was second because Keith ultimately would let Lance do whatever, just with a healthy dose of revenge nagging for the flu incident and any other Best Friend Treaties Lance had locked them into without legal council present. So, he _figured_ \- look, Lance was smart. Incredibly adept at strategizing anything from get togethers to using physics and engineering to make fun little at home crafts. Again, Keith _figured_ , Lance was operating on some sort of strategy to tell Pidge last.  
  
If Hunk was reason and Keith was neutrality, Pidge was chaos.  
  
Lance, unfortunately, was also a _‘fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants’_ kind of guy.  
  
He figured Lance would hustle to time his date night routine around the ETA of Pidge in a way that wouldn’t immediately implicate him and give him some time to get in her good graces. Keith couldn’t very well express his concern or tell him to _hurry the fuck up because the pigeon has landed_ when the bane of his existence insisted on leisurely strolling around the apartment shirtless in his good jeans gently patting the water from his hair and neck, lest Keith say something incredibly stupid.  
  
He wondered if Hunk would forgive him for chucking the nice accent wall clock he found at a yard sale at Lance’s thick head.  
  
The clear lack of plan there came down to that -  
  
There had been no one to catch the collar of Pidge’s shirt when she and Hunk came through the door since Keith had offered to take the groceries out of her hands and some of Hunk’s. It was like a scene out of Planet Earth where the predator caught site of its prey and it’s a whole circle of life thing, it’s natural. It was just the way things went and it wasn’t meant to be cruel, but you still root for the prey to see another day even if you realize the predator is just hungry and doing what its instincts tell it to do.  
  
That’s what it was like as they could only watch Pidge lock onto the smell of Lance’s body wash and Date Lance™ innocently walking out of his bedroom, offhandedly asking if he wore the one navy blue t-shirt too many times on dates as he pulled it down to his waist. He wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings. She was gone with a huff and sinister gleam on her glasses.  
  
Lance must have seen the movement out of the corner of his eye because he froze and made a shocked hiccup as she jumped and flung her arms around his shoulders. It was a creative stunt. Not one Lance would have been used to (he adapted to the blind jumps where she stuck herself like velcro to his back or the side tackles disguised as hugs. Keith was impressed, with the sheer force she propelled herself at him with and at Lance for managing to remain upright with Pidge’s dead weight hanging off of him.  
  
He hoped the guy Lance was seeing liked statement jewelry because the Pidge necklace wasn’t coming off anytime soon.  
  
_“Pidge,”_ Lance wheezed, “Did you pack on 20 pounds or an industrial magnet or something?”  
  
Pidge adjusted her hold and glared. “You’re wearing that boy cologne crap Matt told you about and you’re wearing the date shirt.”  
  
“In this house, we respect your brother’s glow up.”  
  
“Unbelievable.” Keith tore his eyes from Pidge and Lance to look at Hunk. Hunk shook his head and greeted Keith. “Hello, _dear_. Isn’t it great seeing the kids get along so well?”  
  
Keith laughed and followed him into the kitchen, sparing a glance in Lance’s direction. He narrowly dodged Pidge’s the swing of Pidge’s tennis shoes when he made his way past them, accidentally meeting Lance’s pleading gaze over the untamable mess of Pidge’s hair. “Uh, sorry. Hands are full.”  
  
Lance wrapped his arms around Pidge’s waist and attempted to follow after them. He really only managed a lurch that nearly pitched him and Pidge face first into the floor. “You _traitors_.”  
  
Pidge jostled her weight against him to bring his attention back to her. As if he could forget the whole person currently bent on prematurely stooping his neck. It earned her another feeble wheeze. “What’s your game, McClain? You hype up dinner night for _two years_. Through severe weather and sickness and now, _you_ blow _us_ off to go on some date?”  
  
Keith laid down the grocery bags on the counter and went back into the open room to watch as they grappled with each other and muttered increasingly rude things at each other. Lance worked to pry her fingers apart, then settled into holding her out as far as he could hoping her shorter wing span would fall short.  
  
“If you already know, why are you asking?”  
  
“Because I demand you be man enough to look me in the eye and admit it.”  
  
“It doesn’t make a difference!”  
  
Hunk stood beside him and nudged him in the ribs. “It’s better to just look a way, man.”  
  
“I can’t. It’s like the chase scene where the iguana is trying to wrestle his away from all of those snakes. It demands to be watched.”  
  
“Friendly reminder, I still hate you both. No one will have salsa.” Lance groaned when Pidge’s knees knocked against his side. “Pidge, gremlin of my nightmares, ruler of all things that go bump in the night. Can we please have a normal conversation like adults and you not actively trying to snap my neck?”  
  
_“No.”_  
  
“You know what? Fine.” Lance bent and swooped his arm under her knees while supporting Pidge’s back. He carried he to the catch, throwing himself and her into the cushions, making sure not to land on her arm. She landed comfortably beside him with an _‘oof’_. “We’ll talk. I have a date to tonight.”  
  
Pidge hummed and adjusted her legs next to his as she laid down on her side. It was like a switch with them. One that Keith, admittedly, sometimes had trouble keeping up with. He was close to Pidge - really close, actually. He had known her long before he knew Hunk and Lance. She was ultimately the one that dragged him into the first face-to-face introduction with them outside of a classroom. Keith had been taken aback, knowing what he knew of Pidge and knowing what he knew within two minutes of meeting Lance, he couldn’t for the life of him see how they were friends. At first, he figured it had to do with a healthy dose of Hunk playing the buffer and some back-burner plot in Pidge’s path to this universe’s overlord.  
  
Until he saw Lance and Pidge have their own moments completely unsupervised by Hunk. That was two years ago and he was still surprised, to this day, how they could go from how someone would assume personalities like Lance and Pidge interacted compared to _this_.  
  
This moment where she let him idly brush his fingers through her bangs to watch them fall right back into a haphazard place as Lance told her about the boy and that he really _wanted_ this because he wanted to introduce them. Keith had yet to see this particular look on Lance as he started to absentmindedly braid parts of her hair and smile as he talked more about this person that had started to become fractionally more important to him. Keith didn’t even remember Lance’s date-maybe- _date_ -date’s name.  
  
He was brought back out of thought when Hunk nudged him more meaningfully and nodded his head back in the direction of the kitchen. “That’s our cue. Also, I could use another set of hands in here to get the rest of the food started.”  
  
Keith grinned. “Do you guys still have that fire extinguisher around?”  
  
“Keith, I refuse to believe anyone is that bad in a kitchen.” Hunk started to move foods into their prep places.  
  
Keith had been around long enough now for falling into Hunk’s step was muscle memory. He opened cabinets and drawers, meticulously placing clean bowls and plans strategically by the food and fished out the neon orange spatula Lance had bought for Hunk their freshmen year of collage. “I have microwave pizza bagels down to a science.”  
  
“We all have to start somewhere, dude.”  
  
“That’s oddly inspiring.”  
  
Hunk turned to clap Keith on the shoulder and handed Keith a ponytail holder to pull his hair back. “The only way my mom said I could ever disappoint her was if I ever gave up on someone or let them go on thinking they’re stuck with microwave pizza bagels for the rest of their life.”  
  
“I still don’t think I’m ready to attempt your guac recipe.”  
  
“Oh, no no no no. Nobody said anything anything about you starting off with guac. Which you will not try to prepare - yet. You’re going to start off with frying the meat and asking everyone how many tacos they want and hard or soft shell, the works.”  
  
Keith huffed amusedly as he mumbled a _‘got it’_ around the ponytail holder between his teeth. He tied the elastic in his hair, tucking the longer parts of his bangs that fell loose behind his ear. He moved to the sink to wash his hands, when long, long arms were suddenly draped around Keith’s middle and an unmistakable bony chin hooked over his shoulder, a lanky body melding to his back. “You’re still going to save me leftovers, right?”  
  
“We agreed to no such thing.”  
  
_“Keeeeeith.”_ Lance dug his chin into the juncture between his shoulder and neck, squirming his fingers into Keith’s side for good measure.  
  
“I’m supposed to ask everyone how many tacos they want and which kind of shells.”  
  
“Two, one hard and one soft? A decent side of guac? To not make it look suspect? Like you could easily be taking leftovers to Shiro? I don’t have to have any salsa or the cheese dip.”  
  
Keith ducked out from Lance and the sink to get a towel to dry his hands. “Mayb-”  
  
“FREEZE.”  
  
_“EE?!”_  
  
Hunk whirled around with a spatula in his hand. Keith’s voice broke as threw up his hands and Lance anchored himself back to Keith, one leg in the air around Keith’s side like it was going to thwart whatever trouble they were vulnerable to. Hunk leaned further to the side and raised his eyebrows. Keith moved slowly, still not convinced it wasn’t him and Lance that were on the receiving end of Hunk’s wrath. He slid his eyes to the side and slowly turned his head to look behind them.  
  
Where Pidge was standing with a palm to her mouth.  
  
Lance shrieked. “ _Dude_ , I braided your hair and you were still going to sabotage mine?! We had a moment, pigeon.”  
  
Pidge dropped her hand and shrugged before passing by them into the kitchen and hoisting herself up onto a counter. “It was worth a shot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Toast](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/hostedimages/1379766781i/250104.jpg) and the [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fjE-wA4V4u4) Lance sings.
> 
> A little info - I was inactive in the fandom for over a year and a half, I used to write mainly shallura. However, in my inactiveness klance sort of gained speed with me, obviously. After s7, I wanted to put more good out there which is how I picked up writing again. It's cathartic and I hope you guys enjoy the story and ship focus switch. As the story unfolds after the chapter two update, I'll add in more tags and information related to the story. I want to keep some mystery around it right now. Let me know what you thought with a kudos or comment or shoot me a message on [ tumblr](http://plaxhums.tumblr.com) \- I post oneshotes/drabbles there first.


	2. Chapter 2

He made the mistake once of asking Lance about a date before and Keith had learned his lesson real quick after the one time - even if he figured Lance was lying through his teeth when he quipped back that he made his date breakfast ( _“So yeah, it went great, mullet.”_ ).  
  
Keith had founded, well-grounded doubts about the claim with ten winky face emojis staring back up at him, but it was also _Lance_.  
  
He only found out he was lying because he further dug himself into a hole by bringing it up to Hunk ( _because wasn’t that awkward?, also Hunk worked early that morning, wasn’t that inconsiderate?_ ) and Hunk had looked at Lance with sheer, unadulterated disappointment while Pidge cackled across from them. Lance was all long angles stretched out in his seat looking like the cat that ate the canary. Whatever long game Lance had going on with that joke, Keith had blindly taken the bait in earnest, trying to find roots in the group and be part of the conversation.  
  
It….was not one of the highest points of his and Lance’s early turbulent acquaintanceship because Keith was barely a functioning adult that didn’t know how to process embarrassment even on the good days. Add to that an audience of people he could only barely consider knowing _okayish_ and Lance near bursting with glee with a look directed at Keith that felt like a cement block in his stomach and it was a fully formed disaster.  
  
So, he just _left_.  
  
In the middle of the second movie night he had been to (the first without Shiro since the first one he was apart of was at their house before he moved into an apartment, so that time didn’t even count as an invitation). He shoved on his shoes and slammed their apartment door behind him hard enough for it to rattle in the frame and ran like hell down the stairs to get to his bike. Even as he had taken the first few stomps away from their place, he knew he had overreacted. He was good at that. Took home the gold for it. Everything was a mess and he knew it. He knew _he_ was a mess but there was nothing to clear his head past the bile rising in his throat. Keith had heard his phone going off like crazy in his pocket, he just ignored it and hoped Lance could hear the angry snarl of his bike’s motor as he tore out of the parking lot. Shame and confusion had drowned out all of his common sense - he was self aware, didn’t mean he had to just pop back into their apartment the moment he realized it. He earned the right to the be the immature one from time to time.  
  
He avoided the three of them like the plague for a solid week and sidestepped every one of Shiro’s noble intentions to fix it.  
  
With their campus relatively small and a shared engineering course with them, it was hard. Pidge got to him first (read, _cornered_ ) and tried to explain later that she was laughing at Lance — at _only_ Lance — because there was no way he had that much game on a first date. _“Your innocence is refreshing, but the fewer questions about Lance’s love life, the better, dude.”_  
   
Then Lance’s poorly scrounged up apology undid whatever false peace he felt with the situation after Pidge let him burn his frustration out in Mario Kart. It was an even _bigger_ mess than before.  
  
When Hunk finally intervened, they talked, they learned, they moved on, and got to where they were now. Where Keith learned not to give Lance the fucking satisfaction and Lance would cheekily send him snaps without a shirt on and some line like _‘had the best date. wondering what she would like for breakfast ;)’_ as the shot would swing from him to the other side of the bed where Toast crawled out from under the covers, blinking sleepily up at Lance’s phone.  
  
Keith kind of looked forward to them.  
  
For Toast and knowing there were no ill feelings left between him and Lance over the whole thing. _Nothing else._  
  
Even though he stopped asking, it was ultimately pointless because he was promptly added to Lance’s group chat dedicated to date debriefings where Hunk would weigh in on food choices and soothe any panic Lance had over saying the wrong thing. Pidge would instigate, and Keith would stay pretty quiet - unless he had a solid comeback at Lance or stepped up to his duties as a friend to assure Lance it was probably fine ( _“I’m almost 86% positive she doesn’t think you spilled your drink in her direction on purpose?”_ ).  
  
Lance had even explicitly asked for advice from Keith in person before.  
  
_“Keith, you’re gay.”_  
  
_“Well-spotted.”_  
  
_“Did you just make a joke/reference from this era? Wait, no. Like, I need to ask you a serious question.”_  
  
Keith definitely thought the entire thing would blow his carefully crafted cover and that the amount of damage control would be beyond his capabilities because no friend group he knew of bounced back after someone admitted their attraction to someone, the group dynamic was just shot. (And screw Shiro for answering to his one (1) very real fear with, _“We will rebuild.”_ )  
  
So, again, he avoided weighing in on Lance’s dates and, by extension, any reenactments of Date Lance™ to him or in the same room as him that would put Keith at risk of saying something incredibly incriminating and stupid.  
  
Now it was 11:50 the next morning, Keith found himself itching to ask the one question he swore he never would again because the group chat had been completely dead since before Lance left on his date. Which wasn’t part and parcel of being Lance’s friend. Keith scrubbed a hand through his hair and checked through his messages one more time before setting his phone down and going back to cleaning his apartment, fueling the cagey feeling in his chest into scrubbing every nook and cranny on his stove.  
  
It wasn’t until his phone was going absolutely insane 45 minutes later that he saw that the group chat had risen from the grave and he suddenly had an astronomical number of unread messages. The ringtones and pings going off like tiny bombs in his otherwise quiet apartment had him diving for it on a kitchen counter. Keith scrolled through the messages between Pidge and Hunk to the bottom, expecting to see Lance’s name pop up at some point. It wasn’t until he was already to the bottom of the chat before he noticed Lance hadn’t been added.  
  
Hunk: _so things did not go great_  
  
Pidge: _oh boy_  
_what kind of damage are we looking at here_  
  
Hunk: _nothing big_  
  
Pidge: _the LK situation also wasn’t big, you said_  
_and that was, respectfully, wrong_  
_you’re usually good at exaggerating hunk_  
  
Hunk: _fair_  
_but seriously it’s fine_  
_obviously don’t bring it up unless he brings it up first_  
  
Pidge: _so what_  
_we just don’t do anything?_  
  
Hunk: _we let him work it through his system_  
  
Pidge: _the way you phrase that concerns me_  
      
Hunk: _lance’s fine, just a little sad_  
_like maybe a post-breakup movie_  
_and feverishly planning day trips for us to do together_  
_and it’ll be out of his system in like a week_  
  
Pidge: _this means i have to stock up on sun screen doesn’t it_  
_also keith are you even keeping up_  
_he’s not even on oh my god you’re. a. millennial keith._  
  
Hunk: _i did catch something about the beach at one point this morning before I left_  
_and no, do not buy more sunscreen we have a shelf full of it_  
_speaking of post-breakup movies_  
_I’m at work and he’s on his way to keith’s apartment with said movie_  
  
Keith: _he what now_  
  
Pidge: _theeeere he is_  
_I guess I’ll get a lineup of his favorite vine compilation videos_  
_and memes_  
_in case wonder boy drops the ball here_  
  
Hunk: _he will appreciate it_  
_and I believe in Keith :(_  
_also he likes that one (1) thing right now_  
_and the emojis singing hakuna matata_  
_ooh and just send him a picture of a road work ahead sign_  
  
Pidge: _with or w/o context?_  
  
Hunk: _hm, let’s go with none_  
  
Keith: _the chat’s been dead all morning_  
_why am I only just /now/ being told_  
  
Keith tossed his phone on the couch and scrubbed his hands over his eyes. Was someone already knocking on his apartment or was it his terrible social skills barraging his brain and the oncoming migraine? He didn’t really have any food in his apartment, he still needed to go grocery shopping. And he needed to finish cleaning his apartment because that’s what adults did on their days off. It was supposed to be monotonous work that kept his hands busy and not hyper aware of his phone or the door. He wasn’t the greatest at _hosting_. Let alone hosting a romantically burned Lance.  
  
He nearly had a heart attack when someone actually _did_ knock on it.  
  
He also opened the door a little too forcefully if Lance’s look of confusion and hesitance warred its way across his face was anything to go by. “Uh, hey, man?”  
  
“Hi.” Keith felt winded.  
  
“Is now not a good time?” Lance was on his doorstop with a DVD case in his hand in a t-shirt and sweatpants looking at him like it was _Keith_ that had a bad date night.  
  
He could still smell the faint traces of Lance’s cologne.  
  
“No. I mean - wait.” Keith braced his forehead against the door - which was still very much open with Lance on the other side and the rest of his apartment complex probably listening to the last of his brain cells dying. “It’s _not_ a bad time. Come in?” Keith robotically stepped back and opened the door wider for Lance to come in. More of his laundry detergent mixed with that cologne making itself at home in Keith’s living room.  
  
When he shut the door and turned to see Lance still standing just behind him, looking Keith up and down with this cool gaze that meant his was calculating something, Keith felt every stupid thing he could possibly say well up in his throat because this was not something he was used to. This being the extremely specific situation in which Lance came to his apartment looking far too soft to watch a post-breakup movie without Hunk or Pidge and after a date that went wrong with a guy.  
  
Which was ludicrous.  
  
Shouldn’t have been that big of a deal.  
  
Lance’s eyebrows crawled up his forehead. “Aaare you okay?”  
  
Keith nodded.  
  
“‘Cause you look like I’m about to murder you with a spoon. Or maybe murder me with a spoon.”  
  
Keith swallowed hard and fought for the smartest, safest thing to say. “I wasn’t planning on it? Or, at least, I mean- wait. I don’t know what I’m doing.” Keith slapped his hands over his mouth and groaned. “God, if you could just. Forget that happened?”  
  
Lance snickered, quieter than his usual full laugh or the hearty chuckle, but his eyes crinkled so that told Keith he didn’t completely mess this up. “We don’t have to act any different.” He shrugged. “Last night sucked and now I’m dramatically sulking a little over a slightly bruised ego, but you don’t have to do anything. Just like do your regular thing while I laze around on your couch and watch a movie and maybe steal whatever snacks you have too.”  
  
He let out the breath he had been holding and nodded. “Yeah, I can do that. Just, uh, I’m cleaning so I’ll be running the vacuum at some point.”  
  
“ _Pshaw_. I don’t need volume to know what they’re saying.” Lance wielded the movie in front of him, shimmying it with a hint of glee in his voice. “With as many siblings as I have, you learn to enjoy a film through any kind of chaos.”  
  
True to his word, Lance made quick work of making himself at home without needing Keith. He set everything up with a practiced ease and some of the weight from his shoulders seemed to ease as the DVD menu filled his apartment with the main title theme.  
  
He could do this. No big deal.  
  
Keith moved to pick up the cleaner and rag he was using off of the coffee table when Lance bounded down his hallway and into his room, returning in seconds with his comforter wrapped around him as he shuffled back to the couch.  
  
“ _Lance_. I just made my bed.”  
  
Lance didn’t spare him a glance as he started the movie and adjusted the blankets, he didn’t even look at Keith when he found the cellphone half buried between the cushions, setting it on the coffee table, and cocooned himself into the comforter. “I’ll remake it later. Now, _shhh_ , the movie’s starting.”  
  
“Right.” Keith picked up his phone and headed for the bathroom, sparing one last look over his shoulder. He swiped up on his phone and noticed a message notification.  
  
Hunk: _did he make it over there okay??_  
  
Keith: _yeah_  
  
Hunk: _how is he_  
  
Keith: _we did what we could_  
      
Hunk: _k e i t h_  
  
Keith: _[IMAGE SENT]_  
  
Hunk: _okay you’re macabre humor needs better timing_  
_i’ll forgive it this time since burrito lance is precious_  
_how are you doing with all of this?_  
  
Keith: _before or after i let him stand outside my apartment_  
_and stuttered at him_  
_and apparently gave him a look like I was about to kill him???_  
_he had to be the one to get the world back on its axis_  
  
Pidge: _keith bad at consoling? neeeeeever_  
  
Keith: _shit_  
_fcuk_  
_……_  
_Hunk, I thought this was just us_  
  
Pidge: _I don’t need a chat to know you’re suffering_  
_it permeates the air - angst with a splash of aged vinegar_  
  
Keith: _weirdly enough, this is not helping katie_  
_the odds of me causing irreparable damage here_  
_are crippling_  
_do we not remember my track record with lance and dates_  
  
Pidge: _look you’re not great with words, so what?_  
_maybe lance doesn’t need that right now_  
_get your head **out** of the game, kogane_  
  
Hunk: _Wildcats!_  
  
Keith closed the chat and started to pocket his phone when another notification lit up the screen.  
  
From Best Big Bro: _I just had the strongest urge to feel disappointed_  
_and to tell you_  
_Language._

It was fine. No arguments, nothing on fire, everyone still breathing. Nobody needed to expect him to go out and get a comfort companion degree or license. Lance was unbothered by the ruckus when he accidentally knocked all of the shampoo, conditioner, and body wash bottles into the bathtub and failed not to repeat it once but two more times. No peep was made when he moved onto the vacuum and sucked up one of those plastic wire things from a price tag and the vacuum let out heinous screeching.  
  
Lance didn’t even look like he had heard any of those things when Keith finally made his way with the vacuum into the living room. He hadn’t turned up the volume, which Keith wouldn’t have been against if he had, but he had begun to mouth the words as they played out on screen.  
  
Keith steered the vacuum around the edge of the coffee table, but had to stop where Lance’s legs rested across from him on the table. He raised his eyebrow and nudged his calf with the vacuum. “Lance, legs.”  
  
Lance didn’t move a muscle.  
  
Keith retreated, then moved forward again, didn’t stop as he bared down on Lance’s legs - only for them to stay stubbornly in his way as Lance’s socked feet only slid across the surface. He rolled his eyes and huffed, pulling the vacuum away so he could get around it to Lance’s legs stretched into the next zip code from his apartment. Keith leaned toward Lance’s legs to move himself because Lance was clearly ignoring him and a child. “This really isn’t necess-es- _ary!”_  
  
Lance shot out from the blankets and dove forward, wrapping long, long arms around Keith’s middle. The breath was punched out of him as he landed with an _oof_ on the couch with Lance. Everything was the scent of his own dryer sheets and the traces of Lance’s cologne and a heat that prickled his neck.  
  
“Oh my god, you’re like a furnace.” He yanked against the steel like grip locked onto his middle, sliding and twisting around to unbalance Lance as he fought hard to get back out into the circulated air. “How can you even stand to be this warm??”  
  
“Watch the movie with me.”  
  
“Lance, they kissed and now the credits are literally on. The movie’s over.”  
  
Lance grinned, a smile that could split the world as it sealed Keith’s fate with one of Lance’s arms still anchored around him and the other reaching for the remote to restart it.  
  
Keith refused to give in that easy.  
  
“Oh no, no, no. I have things to do.”  
  
“Clean apartment — check. Let Lance in the door — check. Vacuum — check.” Lance shifted them further into the blankets, his arm like a brand against Keith’s as the main title swelled back to pitch. “Besides, your apartment’s never _actually_ dirty.”  
  
Keith thumped his head against the back of the couch and growled up at the ceiling. “Wouldn’t you know me doing what I was actually has a direct correlation to that.”  
  
“Keeeith, c’mon. Watch the movie with meee.”  
  
_‘Get your head out of the game.’_  
  
He groaned and sank right back into the couch because Keith apparently did give in that easily and he wanted to be able to tell Hunk he could manage this one thing Lance seemed insistent on. Even despite a very loud loop of reasons to not do it, infuriatingly enough featuring Pidge’s snickering voice asking him _why again_ and _how_ he somehow got tangled up in the weirdest couch burrito watching one of Lance’s cheesy movies and _just going with it_ as she imagined how he must have been ready to blow a gasket because higher brain functions just sort of stalled for him.  
  
Keith turned to see Lance avidly watching the movie, completely unaware Keith was digging his own grave in the embarrassment field that he built himself.  
  
He didn’t technically need to tell anyone about this part.  
  
Lance started to mouth the words again with some far off fond emotion curved into the corner of his mouth.  
  
He didn’t have to admit to anything.  
  
He could just let it happen, let the movie wash over him with Lance’s body heat dulled from overbearing to something like drifting lazily in warm water. It could just be _this_ \- where Lance’s arms are relaxed around him and Keith doesn’t launch himself across the room overthinking _everything_. He didn’t blanch when Lance leaned his head against Keith’s, pressing their shoulders together.  
  
_‘Look, you’re not great with words, so what?’_  
  
He nudged Lance’s leg to make room for him as he threw his feet up on the coffee table beside Lance’s and willed the static fuzz that felt like it was vibrating his teeth down to a buzz nagging at the back of his head.    
  
_‘Maybe Lance doesn’t need that right now.’_  
  
His heart hammered the entire time as the movie called him out, relief not gracing him with its presence until the final scene and Lance was laughing hard enough to shake Keith, knocking and melding the curves and dips of his side to Keith’s. In one sweep of movement, Lance’s arm was gone from around him as he stood up. It left to Keith slump further into the couch and blanket. Made a point of looking away quickly when Lance stretched, a satisfied groan pulled out of him when his back popped. Refused to acknowledge how rumpled Lance’s clothes were. Didn’t want to even think about how the crinkle from his shirt was probably mapped into Keith’s arm.  
  
He _needed_ to get a grip.  
  
“Up, up, up. I was given strict instructions earlier.”  
  
_“Wh-GEez, Lance.”_ Keith was yanked up, unceremoniously spun to the side so Lance could gather the comforter in his arms.  
  
He took off down the hall with it wrapped around him again, snickering as Keith followed behind him in time to see Lance throw himself up and out to flop on the bed with the blanket stretched out in his hands like wings. Keith shook his head and approached the side of the bed to watch Lance halfway emerge from the pool of blankets.  
  
“That’s definitely not how normal people make their bed. You’re just making more of a rumpled sheets situation.”  
  
_“Tsk,”_ Lance propped his head up on the pillow and smirked. “I’ll have you know I’m great in bed. Prepare to have your mind blown, mullet.”  
  
He really and truly prided himself on not swallowing his tongue for a third time today as Lance launched himself off the bed. “Yeah, _okay_.”  
  
Lance shuffled Keith out of the way before making a show of stretching and cracking his knuckles. Keith cringed at the sound and glared at the cheeky smile Lance threw over his shoulder. It didn’t take Lance that long to snap everything back into order and Keith dimly thought that it was kind of ridiculous in hindsight watching Lance remake his bed. But he had _just_ made it and he was trying to clean and be an orderly adult so he could flood Shiro’s phone with picture proof that he hadn’t turned his apartment into a cave he only emerged from on a full moon or something.  
  
All of it hurtled into another moment he had no idea how to navigate from as he stared at his bed with Lance off to the side with his hands on his hips surveying his work. It was impressive.  
  
Not that he was going to tell Lance that should he throw another one liner out about being great in bed because there was only so much Keith could handle. With nothing to say, the silence became awkward, the air between them stale.  
  
“I should probably go.” Lance hooked a thumb over his shoulder.  
  
“Do you-“ They spoke at the same time and Keith felt his face flush. “Yeah, no. _Right_. Yeah.”  
  
Lance scrubbed a hand over his neck. “Yeah, just kind of starving now.”  
  
“ _Wait_. I have—,” Keith walked out of his room, leaving Lance to stand in his same place. He was half way down the hallway before he realized Lance hadn’t followed him. He popped his head back in the bedroom and quizzically studied Lance. “Uhh, come with me?”  
  
“Well, you just said to wait and took off so…”  
  
Keith rolled his eyes. “Come on, Lance, since when do you listen to me?”  
  
“More than you would think.” He winked and Keith felt his face flush.  
  
“R-right, well. A terrible decision really.”  
  
“I dunno, I’m still worried you might have a grudge and a spoon in your back pocket or something.”  
  
He left his bedroom again and made a beeline for the kitchen, not waiting to see if Lance followed. He was a little proud of himself for the seamless spin on his heel and snap of the fridge door open to gesture inside. “Buh, buh, buh, buh.”  
  
Lance raised his eyebrows and pressed a hand delicately to his chest. “Did you just _flourish_ for me?”  
  
“Look in the fridge, Lance.”  
  
“Fine, fine,” Lance muttered to himself as he ducked his head down to see in. He gasped, standing back up to look at Keith with this unguarded expression Keith didn’t know what to do with. Lance pulled the containers out and lined them on the counter as Keith shut the fridge. Lance popped the containers open. “You’re a prince among men, Kogane. How’d you get the leftovers past the gremlin?”  
  
“I have my ways.”  
  
Lance hummed, biting his lip as he busied himself around Keith’s kitchen to get plates. There was a fluidity to his movements, no question in where something was.  
  
It was…nice.  
  
When he realized that Hunk, Lance, and Pidge would invade his life without falter and with a fierceness that was extremely intimidating, Keith had been put-off. That was before he had only seen Shiro move around his place like a second home. Hunk repeatedly asked him if it was okay when he had (at first, grudgingly) agreed to host a movie night at his apartment and assured Keith at anytime that he could check them back into place if it became too overwhelming as he kept a sharp eye on Pidge and Lance not to destroy something. He learned being host only meant so much when Hunk was involved. It was incredibly relieving to know he didn’t have to be the one to open his personal space up to them _and_ make food and drinks and lead small talk.  
  
The entire experience had been something to get used to, but it was worth it. The three of them had been so genuine Keith hardly had it in him to say no to anything, even when it wasn’t the best of times between him and Lance.  
  
Very worth it as he watched Lance hum to a tune as he stretched for a higher cabinet where Keith had a spinner for seasonings. The long line of him relaxed and fit for this space.

* * *

“It wasn’t _bad_. Like, nobody did anything wrong. It’s just-“ Lance furrowed his brow and stared down at his plate, mulling over his words. Keith questioned whether or not he’s a good person because he was taking a weird amount of comfort seeing a less…articulate Lance. “Turns out he had been talking to someone else, which I knew about. We had agreed to keep it casual and just let things sort of go from there before we just jumped straight into an exclusive relationship or anything since we didn’t previously know each other for like an extended period of time.  
  
“So, you know, the date’s going great and we’re laughing a lot and I’m so sure I’ve got this in the bag. We were laughing at something I knew I couldn't wait until dinner was over. I had to wipe my hand against my pants because I was a wreck of excitement at this point.”  
  
Keith pressed his mouth into a firm line and dropped his eyes. It felt almost invasive to watch whatever emotions war for their turf on Lance’s features.  
  
“Well, obviously it didn’t go right. Turns out I had waited too long.” Lance cleared his throat. “Other person he was talking to asked him before I did. Dude felt so bad he wouldn’t let me pay any of the bill or tip, I must’ve looked pretty rough.” He pushed around the leftovers on his plate and shook his head. “ _Anyways_ , timing sucks.  
  
“Maybe this is the universe’s way of telling me I need to just be still for a bit. Not look for a love connection or anything, maybe let it come to me or something poetic like that.”  
  
“You should do what you want, Lance.” Keith took a deep breath and pleaded the universe to not tangle his words. “You like people, being around people. You like dating and doing things. You like meeting new people and doing new things. If you want to wait or whatever you think is right, then do it. But don’t let it make…you….miserable? What? Why are you looking at me like that?”  
  
“You’ve spent like the last four hours barely able to manage a whole sentence and you just bust all of that on me _in the last 20 seconds?_ Not that I’m complaining, it’s nice not to have to feel like I needed to spend the entire time explaining the situation for advice, but _dude_.”  
  
“I—uh—Hunk. I promised Hunk I wouldn’t mess this up or that I would try my best or something.”  
  
“Did Hunk tell you to say that?”  
  
“No.” Keith’s eyes widened as Lance surveyed him, letting out a noncommittal hum as he did. “I swear, it just sort of happened.”  
  
“Sporadic, unplanned pieces of sound advice that could also be bad advice….Yeah, that’s definitely not Hunk or Shiro’s style.” Lance smiled moved around more food on his plate before looking up to Keith, cutting off his retort. “Not a bad thing, though. You know why I came over here over doing something productive or waiting for Hunk or even crashing at Pidge’s for a bit?”  
  
“Not, really no.”  
  
Lance chuckled, rolling his eyes and tossing a piece of taco shell in Keith’s direction. They watched as it pitifully bumped against his elbow before falling back to spin on the table. “Hunk is my advice guy. Like if I’ve done something or read a situation wrong, he’s there. I can talk through every single detail and completely flub the actual sequence of events by backtracking and going off on tangents and by the end of it, he’s got it all down pat and can site my thought pattern in the moment and how I could learn, change, and/or understand my significant other’s side. He’s like, my wonder twin. Hunk gets me in perspective. I save him for the more serious situations and my major fall ups.”  
  
“Has that ever….not worked? Not questioning Hunk or anything, but…”  
  
“Oh, yeah.” Lance leaned back in his chair and scratched his cheek. “There’s been some not so easy miscommunications and broken hearts and this one really, really bad unrequited thing. Or if I’m too much in my head and I’m not ready to really accept things, he’ll watch Reading Rainbow and Mister Rodger’s clips online with me.”  
  
Keith made a mental note.    
  
“Pidge is my vent audience and this one time she hacked an ex’s phone-“  
  
“ _Lance_. That’s really not okay.”  
  
“I know, _okay_. I talked to her about it and I even got her to tell Matt and Shiro. _That_ scared me even more than personal details surfacing on the student webpage or something. Shiro took that time to give us some D.A.R.E. officer level talk while Matt secretly high-fived Pidge and triple-checked to make sure she hadn’t left like a techie footprint.”  
  
It was still weird for Keith to hear Shiro’s name brought up in the times that were _pre-him_ and tried not to hyper focus on the fact that his friends, that he had gotten really close to, were in fact his pseudo-older brother’s friends first. Like everything else in Keith’s life, secondhand and not totally his. Not that he resented that they were friends with Shiro or Shiro had friends. Now that he spent so much time with them, it was easy to forget Shiro had a longer history with them. He really needed to stop angsting about whether or not he was seen as Shiro filler or a poor trade off.  
  
“It was a heated situation for all involved. But, uh, long story short an ex had planned to share things we had talked about in confidence to like get back at me and I was _terrified_ it would somehow effect my student visa or enrollment because their parent worked on the school board.”  
  
“I didn’t know you had a breakup that bad.”  
  
“Dark times it was, Red.”  
  
“Oh, well—,“ Keith shrugged his shoulders. “Well, you seem fine now.”  
  
“That’s with time, _a lot_ of time. That person and I both did things that weren’t great and even now I still get irrational and immature thoughts crowding my skull over it two years later. Pidge is usually pretty good about riding my case and jolting me into seeing things a different way. Hunk is the warm blanket approach and she’s the electric eel and an excellent source of various ways to burn out energy.” Lance glanced at Keith, quick to throw his arms up in a placating gesture. “Legal ones, I feel like I have to mention from the look on your face.”  
  
“Yeah, I’m not going to deny being momentarily prepared to hear something that would make me an accessory after the fact.”  
  
“She rock climbs, you know that, right? Her and Matt got really into it when they were kids after their parents got them lessons one summer and still have weekend camping trips whenever they can to go out. They’ve got certifications on it and everything, even help out teaching summer classes at the athletic center. Anyways, she took me hiking to this spot about two hours from campus and had me scream curse words out over the cliffs. That’s proved to be pretty useful more during finals week than anything else, to be honest.”  
  
Lance chuckled and leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “Or another time, she took me to like an underground coffee shop that only had themed names for their drinks and you ordered based on what name peaked your interest. The only hints you got about what it might be or what it could taste like were the lists for allergy warnings and substitutions they could use. And here’s the thing, the names are never the same, they change, but never on a seasonal or weekly or monthly basis. It’s completely randomized and I have no idea how the place even works and I go there almost everyday for something.”  
  
“That almost goes against every rule of a successful coffee place.”  
  
“Tell me about it, but their ‘Gatsby Night’ _killed_ it. The same drink does have a very small chance of having two different names, but usually they don’t do repeats or make the same drink that’s already come off the board, but Pidge’s good word and my own irresistible charm help me skate by the rule from time to time. Whoever runs it, they just know drinks - not limited to coffee - and it works.”  
  
“So, why you came over here…?”  
  
“Right, right, right. So, see both of those options are dependent on communicating and talking and sometimes yelling, “ _Fuck_ ,” over a canyon with mosquitoes eating at my legs. With you, I don’t feel like I need to talk things out. I don’t need to spend the time learning from it. You’re not a talker and I _wanted_ that.”  
   
“You wanted….silence? But you could have just stayed at your apartment, with Toast.”  
  
“I needed a Keith brand of silence. Don’t get me wrong, Toast is my one true love, goddess divine, but she’s still a cat. Like she can pick up that I’m sad or whatever but I can’t really _explain_ it to her and she understand the context. Also, you’re a lot more entertaining in these situations.”  
   
“Gee, I’m glad my social ineptitude is such a comfort.”  
  
“Dude, you’re not _inept_. Who even told you that?”  
     
_Literally every social interaction in his life, thanks, Lance._ Keith cleared his throat, “You had a point somewhere.”  
  
Lance sighed and slid down in his chair, causing his feet to knock and slide next to Keith’s under the table. “We’re friends, Keith. Like best friends and you have your own way of adding to our group. And, like I said, I don’t feel like I have to automatically start working to untangle and understand or fix a situation. It can just be total shit and that’s okay. You’re the dog sitting in his house on fire, saying, “This is fine.””  
  
“Is that…supposed to be a good thing?”  
  
“It’s _our_ thing. Shiro said we’ve always gotten along like a house on fire.”  
  
“Technically he said we were interchangeably the match and accelerant and it wasn’t supposed to be a good thing.”  
  
“But like, it makes sense. Think about it in another way.”  
  
Keith raised his eyebrows. “One of us is the house?”  
  
“No, like. If you were a volcano and I was an earthquake, we’re together Pompeii. Or hot and cold fronts, we’d be a twister.”  
  
“What.”  
  
“We go at 100 to feed into each other and stay even. Neck and neck.”  
  
“By creating disaster where ever we go? And didn’t that comic have a follow-up with the dog realizing he needed to freak out?”  
  
“No, to the disaster thing—yes, to the follow-up comic, I think? I saw a few different ones. Look, _Keef_ , work with me. We mirror each other. So, like I came here because I just wanted to be still and not talk and watch a cheesy romantic movie with really bad pants, so you didn’t talk or try to get me to talk _and_ you even watched the movie with me. But now we’re talking.”  
  
“That’s just following social cues, Lance.”  
  
Lance grinned, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I thought you were socially inept?”  
  
“I—“ Keith’s mouth hung open a beat, before clacking shut as he narrowed his eyes. _“Stop that.”_  
  
Lance threw his head back and laughed. Keith had absolutely no clue as to what the day had come to or what he was supposed to do, but his eyes trailed the dip of Lance’s Adam’s apple and the flash of his teeth with a wild sense of victory even though he was still seventy percent confused to what Lance saw so clearly.

And on so many different wavelengths where the only thing between the changing stations Keith could tune in on loud and clear was that whatever it was, it was good. That _this_ was okay.  
  
It was weird to think that this had been the longest he and Lance had hung out together that wasn’t inside of a classroom or with the expectation of Pidge and Hunk joining them. The longest they’ve talked about serious things with the intent that Keith was the one to make Lance feel better. It felt like static electricity in the air, waiting to click between his teeth or spark against his hand the next time he touched a doorknob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't plan on a chapter update taking a whole month and I still don't feel 100% sold on what its come to. It put me in a huge writing block and became a sort of Great Divide from Avatar thing for me. There's parts in here I really like and other things that I wanted to happen but aren't quite where I want them linguistically. But that's okay, not every chapter has to be a masterpiece and I just need to keep moving forward. I also want to thank my friend for being a soundboard for this story and helping me to get past this chapter that I complained about incessantly. 
> 
> Nevertheless, I appreciate each of you taking your time to read it and hope you enjoyed it or parts of it. Thank to everyone that has left kudos and commented, as well. Hang around if you wish, the good stuff™ is yet to come.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Get in, losers. It's our beach episode."

_Lance has changed the chat name to summer lovin’ had me a bla-hah-ha-st_  
  
Lance: _summer loving happened so fa-hah-ha-st_  
  
_Pidge has left the chat_  
  
Lance: _rude._  
  
_Lance has changed the chat name to I’m not allowed to ever have fun_  
  
_Lance has added Pidge to the chat._  
  
_Lance has changed Pidge’s name to fun police._  
  
fun police: _and don’t you forget it_  
  
_fun police has changed Lance’s name to grease trash._  
  
Hunk: _guys please,_  
_don’t tell me this is going to be the repeat of the christmas all i want for christmas chat debacle_  
  
grease trash: _*battle_  
_that I won_  
  
fun police: _me blocking you for two weeks doesn’t count as winning_  
  
Hunk: _can we please just have a nice conversation_  
  
_fun police has changed Hunk’s name to mom friend™_  
  
mom friend™: _i can’t believe you would just throw around_  
_shiro’s brand like that_  
  
grease trash: _is anyone even remotely curious to what brings you here today_  
  
fun police: _I thought this was just another time where you would spam us lyrics_  
  
grease trash: _okay it loses its magic if you just expect it all of the time_  
_and i gathered you here for a reason_  
_i have actual plans._  
_the chat title was to set the mood~_  
_also where’s keith_  
  
fun police: _probably not by his phone nor aware of this_  
_the lucky soul_  
  
grease trash: _there’s been more sightings of the loch ness monster than there has been of keith_  
  
fun police: _okay i’ll give you that one_  
  
grease trash: _ty_  
  
_grease trash has changed Keith’s name to the lost cryptid_  
  
_fun police has added a photo_  
  
mom friend™: _guYS_  
  
the lost cryptid: _hilarious_  
  
Keith enlarged the picture Pidge had sent, a blurry shot of him trying to move out of the camera frame. The image had been edited with a static filter that seemed to blur the focus further and white, block letters that had ‘I want to believe’ stamped across the middle.  
  
grease trash: _he’s like beetlejuice_  
  
mom friend™: _Lance please get on with it_  
  
grease trash: _okay, okay fine_  
_so we’re going to the beach_  
  
fun police: _it’s storming lance_  
  
grease trash: _it won’t be on saturday_  
_since hunk worked the last two weekends, he’ll be off_  
_matt has to do research out of town so you guys won’t be camping_  
_and keith requested off from work_  
  
the lost cryptid: _because I have plans with shiro????_  
_also_  
_how do you get that kind of information??_  
  
grease trash: _1) you and shiro will be done before the time i wanna go_  
_2) i ask plenty of questions and keep a calendar_  
  
mom friend™: _i’ve seen it it’s p impressive_

  
 

* * *

 

  
  
Shiro whizzed past him around a corner, a self-satisfied snicker lighting up Keith’s frustration.  
  
There wasn’t much he could do other than grumble and pick up his pace along the park trail, ducking his head as a couple glanced between him and Shiro, then back again. Shiro was waiting for him at the summit of another hill, cheekily grinning down at Keith. The only way Keith could tell the workout was getting to him was the deeper heave of his chest - imperceptible to anyone that didn’t know him.  
  
When he crested the hill, blissfully empty of anyone else at the moment, he seethed. “You’re doing this on purpose.”  
  
“What?” Shiro bit the inside of his cheek.  
  
“ _That_ , that right _there_.”  
  
Shiro stretched his arm over his head before dropping it to his shoulder to massage the muscle there. “Don’t know what you could possibly mean.” He hummed as he tipped his water bottle up and drank from it, blissfully ignoring Keith.  
  
“Unbelievable.” Keith shook his head. “Don’t think I won’t trip you down this hill just because you’re not wearing the prosthetic and there’s witnesses.”  
  
“Excuse you, I’m out here doing you favor. You can barely keep up with an aging man-“  
  
“You’re only 30.”  
  
“—that only has one arm.” He raised his voice and waved his shoulder, the sleeve of his t-shirt flapping in the air as the couple from before jogged past them. “You should take better care of your body. You still have _two_ arms.” Keith could only hide his rapidly heating face in his hands as another group walked past them, shooting unapproving looks at Keith.  
  
“Oh my god. Stop, _please_.”  
  
“Why? Are you embarrassed because I’m not wearing the prosth-“  
  
Keith slapped his hands over Shiro’s mouth, though it proved useless as Shiro’s eyes dazzled with mirth at his expense. “I’m going to get followed out to my car and jumped because of you.”  
  
“Nah.” Another unhelpful shirt sleeve wave. “I’ll protect you, nobody would try to fight me.”  
  
It was Keith’s turn to bite the inside of his mouth as Shiro threw an arm over his shoulder, laughing so hard he was shaking against Keith’s side. “Why are you like this.”     
  
Shiro reached up to ruffle Keith’s bangs before he stepped away and turned to start down the other side of the hill. “Because you make it too easy, it’s my job, and you’ve been tense the entire time.”  
  
“That was rhetorical. Also, I’m not tense.”  
  
“You are.”  
  
“I am not.”  
  
“Are to.”  
  
Keith scrubbed his hands over his face before throwing them out to his sides. “I’m not doing this, we’re literally adults.”  
  
“Alright,” Shiro raised his hand placatingly, “but when you’re ready to admit something’s on your mind…” That steady hand dropped to his shoulder comfortingly, rubbing at the absolutely not tense muscle of Keith’s shoulder. “I’m always ready to lend you a hand.”  
  
“ _Jesus._ There’s nothing on my mind.”  
  
“The chewing rusted nails face says different.”  
  
Keith groaned, tossing his head back. “What do you want from me?”  
  
“A boat would be cool.”  
  
_“Takashi.”_  
  
Shiro stopped to shrug back at him. “It’s never too early to start shopping for Christmas, is all.”  
  
“Fuck _off_.” Keith harshly bit his lip as he stepped forward and purposely put his elbow in Shiro’s ribcage. There wasn’t much damage he could physically inflict on Shiro, but the surprised wheeze was victory enough in Keith’s book.  
  
“Well, you’re definitely not going to get anything from me with that attitude.”  
  
_“Shir-o.”_  
  
“What kind of parent would I be if I didn’t meddle?”  
  
“First of all, you’re not a parent and your effort is wasted in 90’s sitcom parenting gimmicks that don’t work.”  
  
“You got me there.” Shiro tilted his head toward Keith and cleared his throat. “But seriously, if it was something that was vaguely important, you’d tell me, right?”  
  
“Probably not.”  
  
“Right, of course.”  
  
“But, uh,” Keith cursed under his breath and rubbed at the back of his neck. He did not want to have this conversation. Not on a public trail, not here or there, or anywhere. “It’s not — important.”  
  
“So there is a thing?”  
  
“Lance is going through this not a full _rebound_ rebound, but a degree of a rebound from this like tenth date or something guy thing and he’s driving all of his energy into romcoms and day trips.” Keith groaned, the words had just come to him in a _whoosh_ , actively listed as the things he would not say. Yet here he was.  
  
“That was a lot of enunciating.”  
  
“Right?! I don’t get it, but it’s what Lance is going through and suddenly he’s showing up at my apartment with Ever After.”  
  
“And this is a problem because?”  
  
“I don’t actively go around trying to fuck up my life and navigating relationship fallouts is decidedly not my thing, I’m not exactly a success story. I’m more the poster child of what not to do? Lance and I aren’t….We’re not _those_ kind of friends.” Keith looked at his hands before he glanced back up to Shiro. His face flushed when he saw the wide eyed look on his face. “Wait, I take it back, I’m fine. There’s no-“  
  
“ _That_ …is a lot to unpack.”  
  
“I’m a wreck. This isn’t new.”  
  
“Okay, so I’m gonna go into dad mode quickly here, hang on. Make sure your seatbelt’s on, hands and arms inside the vehicle at all times. 1. Most people aren’t good at relationship advice even with experience and it’s always awkward when you initially advance your friendship with someone to include more intimate and vulnerable topics. That’s perfectly normal.”  
  
“Oh my god.”  
  
“2. You’re not a failure, your story just hasn’t happened yet. You’re careful and in that regard you haven’t caused harm to yourself or someone else. I would consider that a success I’m proud of you for. 3. You are a catch, any boy would frankly be wildly _blessed_ to date you. 4.The poster child of what not to do are mug shots, Keith, and you don’t have a mug shot. Also -“ Shiro pointed a finger at him as Keith opened his mouth, ”Don’t interrupt, I’m on a roll here. Segueing from dad friend mode™-“  
  
“Hearing you say TM out loud is unsettling.”  
  
“Could you at least _try_ to not be so dramatic?”  
  
“Hey!”  
  
“I’m saying this as your best friend and honorary older brother now: pull your head out of your ass, Keith.”  
  
“Okay, that was uncalled for.”  
  
“Sometimes I have to tough love you in order to get your attention. Stop hyper-focusing on things _having_ to be any certain way. Things change, life gets messy, and you’ve gotta learn how to swim.” Shiro reached toward him, slapping his palm against Keith’s forehead. “Life’s tough, get a helmet.”  
  
Keith gaped, his mouth opening and shutting uselessly as he was minority stunned. He blinked several times - not a dream then, definitely real. He’s being given a talking to on a public trail and just got slapped in the face. “I cannot _believe_ you just quoted Boy Meets World at me???”  
  
“90’s parenting gimmicks, remember?” Shiro placed his hand on Keith’s shoulder and gently shook it to get Keith to make eye contact again. “If trying to navigate relationship fallouts and having an active part in your friend’s love life makes you uncomfortable, tell him. Tell Lance you’d rather not, be upfront with him. I know your cool, edgy, biker kid aesthetic would never let you stoop so low - heaven forbid - to actually _acknowledge_ vulnerability and intimacy—“  
  
“I swear to God if this _segues_ into another safe sex talk, I will hurl myself into the woods.”  
  
“—but you should give it a try some time, when you’re ready. It can be really rewarding. You and Lance have worked really hard and it’s obvious things are starting to be better understood and easy between you guys. Again, if its not your thing there are always thousands of other ways to level up your friendship.”  
  
“You’re like if Professor Oak and Dr. Phil had a child.”  
  
“I refuse to see that as anything other than a compliment.”  
  
It was a miracle Keith really didn’t hurl himself into the forest, but at least they got in their run and satisfied Shiro’s compulsive need for family bonding. Shiro got the intel about if Keith had eaten a proper meal the night before and was staying hydrated. Ever the dutiful nag, it did bring Keith some relief getting the Lance thing out there - even if something wasn’t immediately resolved, talking with Shiro was like a soothing exhale. He usually gave him prospective and, yeah, made sure to wriggle in the head out of his ass line in at least every talk it was applicable in (see: 98.86% of them). Thorough but not overbearing. Or at least Keith’s getting better at being less obvious when it came to Lance.  
  
He filched his car keys out of his pocket, finally looking at his car.  
  
He took it all back.  
  
Shiro was the worst.  
  
The _literal_ worst.  
  
Whatever Keith had done in a past life, this was his punishment.  
  
Because there, sitting straight up in his passenger side seat was Shiro’s prosthetic, innocently waiting in his car.  
  
“I’m going to murder him.” He yanked open the passenger side door of his car and, leaning in, he unbuckled the seat belt and tossed the prosthetic into his backseat. “He is so dead.” Keith chuckled lowly to himself and pointed at the metal arm. “And he isn’t getting _you_ back anytime soon.”

 

* * *

 

  
And that was just how he wound up at Hunk and Lance’s apartment with the smell of sunscreen overtaking the place.  
  
Toast wound her way through his legs, her long hair tickled his calf as absolute chaos spilled from room to room as Hunk valiantly filled a beach bag and Lance was dedicated to getting Pidge to sit still long enough for him to finish coating her back with sunscreen where her one piece was cut out. The stark white cast against her skin where it hadn’t been properly smoothed away was comical. The jut of her shoulder blade a beacon against the black strap of her swimsuit.  
  
Lance’s eyes snapped up to meet his and narrowed. “Don’t think you’re getting out of this either, Kogane. I’ve got enough titanium dioxide and zinc oxide in this house to cover the complete surface of the earth. _Twice.”_  
  
“Which you’ve used most of on me and I’ll have less skin exposed than Keith.” Pidge tried again to wrench her arm out of Lance’s hold and pointed a finger at Keith.  
  
Keith took a step back, leaning against the front door. “How could you throw me under the bus like this?”  
  
“With a dash of salt.” Pidge finally wrangled her way out of Lance’s hold, hastily grabbing a large sun hat that lay on the floor, and stomped across the living room, headed for the kitchen to help Hunk.  
  
Lance turned to him, wiggling his fingers in front of him. “My final victim.”  
  
Keith side-stepped, leaving a wide arc of distance between him and Lance as he ducked further into the apartment and down the hall. “Nope. Gotta change.” He beelined for the bathroom and hoped with every fiber of his being Lance would drop the dramatic crusade to be satisfied with Keith taking care of his own sunscreen or his hands would be full with something once he was done changing and he’d have to ask Pidge to help him or Hunk.  
  
The worst of that scenario would be some stick doodle or a cuss word Pidge decided to map out on his back with the sunscreen.  
  
He yanked his swim trunks up and knotted the drawstrings. He should have just suffered through asking Shiro to help him with the sunscreen after they were done and before he got here….But if there was anything his thought process was it was bent on self-destruction and theatrics.  
  
_“LANCE, IF YOU POP THE CAP OF THAT SUNSCREEN BOTTLE ONE MORE TIME I’M DUMPING YOUR ENTIRE CRATE OF SKIN CARE PRODUCTS OUT THE WINDOW!”_  
  
_“LISTEN HERE, YOU LITTLE GREMLIN-“_  
  
_“LANCE. PIDGE. SEPARATE SIDES OF THE COUCH, NOW.”_  
  
He huffed through his nose, _what was that Shiro had said about birds of a feather?_  
  
Keith carefully laid his hand on the doorknob, slowly rotating it so the click of the latch would be inaudible when he gently pulled the door open to peek down the hall. He could see only part of the living room, neither Pidge or Lance were in his view. Nobody was in the hall, so that meant he was relatively safe for the moment. He held his breath as he shut the door, releasing the knob at a snail’s pace as it clicked back into place. Keith looked at his reflection.  
  
He could easily get another five minutes into tying back his hair and generally just staring at nothing. He pulled the elastic off of his wrist and set to work. Maybe even the scuffle in the living room would take the heat off of him longer than he originally hoped for.  
  
A quiet wrap of knuckles against the door shattered Keith’s dreams that day.  
  
He defeatedly finished wrapping the hair tie around his hair as he huffed out a, _“Yeah.”_  
  
The door eased open, like if the person on the other side of the door - it was Lance, it would only be Lance - was afraid to make any sudden movements like Keith would climb out of the window window and shimmy down a drain pipe or charge the door in a fight or flight thing. Honestly, the slow creak of the hinges was driving him crazier than anything else. Keith muttered under his breath and yanked the door the rest of the way open.  
  
“What are you _doing_?”  
  
Lance threw up his hands, one of them clutched onto a bottle of sunscreen as he eased into the bathroom, careful to keep out of Keith’s personal space. “I come in peace.” He glanced over Keith and Keith knew he was definitely dehydrated if he thought he caught Lance’s eyes look over him twice.  
  
Definitely out of hesitation because Keith wasn’t exactly radiating welcoming vibes. Lance was a person in tune with how people felt, so he was just going off of Keith’s lead.  
  
Clearly.  
  
Another nervous glance over. “I can get Hunk instead? I mean, he was trying to get water and beach towels together.”  
  
How does he say he’s perfectly okay with Lance touching him while convincing him that he’s genuinely _fine_ and absolutely not—  
  
“No, it’s fine. Just don’t like draw or write anything on my back?”  
  
Lance gasped and rested a hand on his chest. “I would never disrespect skin care like that. Though, that snake face Pidge drew out on your shoulder that one time was pretty fantastic.”  
  
Keith crossed his arms and frowned. “Oh yeah, the guys at my gym really appreciated her work.”  
  
He only had a split second to worry if his words came across as too harsh - too serious - before Lance was throwing a hand out to slap against his arm and snorting.  
  
“Amazing. I don’t think I could beat the snake doodle, so for now I’m going to respect the master and keep to actual, even sunscreen application.” He held up the bottle and wiggled it at Keith. “Ready to get your sun protection on, Kogane?”  
  
Keith scoffed, rolling his eyes as his arms fell to his sides and he turned his back to Lance. “Never say that sentence again.”  
  
The pop of the bottle cap was his answer before it was set to the side on the counter.  
  
Lance nudged his wrist against the side of Keith’s arm to get him to turn his body further. “I’m gonna start at your shoulders.”  
  
“Makes sense.”  
  
He felt more than heard Lance’s puff of amusement on the back of his head and then, there were hands working the broad line of his shoulders. The sunscreen wasn’t as cold as he thought it would be. The scent of the sunscreen - or lack thereof because _“perfumes are seriously detrimental, guys.”_ \- quickly overtook the bathroom. It was weird for him to recognize it as one of the major things Lance had smelled like after his trip to visit his family in Cuba.  
  
Otherwise known as Exhibit A in his head.  
  
The time Lance came spilling out of an airport and beelining to Hunk’s SUV with this look on his face that it was only him and his friends that existed in the world. Again, he was reaching (not like he ever _wasn’t_ but) because Keith had been invited to come along when Pidge had suggested they grab food at The One Diner To Die For on their way back from the airport. It was unapologetically selfish of him, but what else was he supposed to do when Lance crashed over them like a wave, freckles stark on his face and his words a blur of Spanish and English as he wrapped Hunk in a hug, then ruffled Pidge’s hair, and turned to Keith with an uncurbed look of surprise.  
  
_“I was told there was a Diner To Die For.”_  
  
And Lance’s face unfolding back to that megawatt smile like Keith had been in their friend group since the beginning - it was dangerous how highly he regarded it, but he didn’t exactly know how to stop or want it to - and threw his arm around Keith’s shoulder to haul him into a brief hug Keith didn’t have time to decide if he wanted to return it. An effortless movement on Lance’s part, a stumbling reckoning for Keith when all he managed to do was brush his hand along the side of Lance’s gray t-shirt before Lance was pulling back and throwing his suitcase into the back of Hunk’s car. All he could smell the rest of the day was that sunscreen locked into Lance’s entire being and the laundry soap he used on his vacation.  
  
So, Exhibit A.  
  
It felt unfair to Lance, to take that first genuine leap in their friendship and warp into something more for himself.  
  
But like, bright eyes and freckles.  
  
“Don’t fall asleep on me.”  
  
Keith blinked, raising his head to look into the mirror and meeting the glinting, amused pair staring back at him. Everything sort of whooshed back into him like getting pulled through a vortex, hyper aware of the warm hands working their way down the middle of his back. Lance pressed his thumb into his spine cheekily, pulling an involuntary groan out of Keith.  
  
Aaaand he wanted to die.  
  
Lather, rinse, repeat.  
  
“Dude, you’re like really knotted up here.”  
  
Keith prided himself on biting back the next groan, quieting it to a hiss of breath between his teeth as more pressure and more fingers circled the spot. “I was running with Shiro earlier, that might be it. Or maybe I just slept wrong.”  
  
His eyes were pulled back to the mirror, the top of Lance’s head just visible over his shoulder. His eyebrows were scrunched in concentration as he rested a hand on Keith’s side to still him as he worked the muscle in Keith’s back. This was weird, or at least, _he_ was making it weird. Lance was a tactile person, so things like this were natural to him. Keith - emotionally stunted or just plain stupid - swallowed past the lump in his throat as he studied the long, darker fingers curled over his hip. Kicked himself even more when his eyes fell shut and his breath hitched and then, oh.  
  
Okay.  
  
So maybe Shiro was right about the tense thing.  
  
His back popped and Lance’s let out a little, “Ah- _ha_!”  
  
Keith chuckled and met Lance’s eyes in the mirror again. “I might secretly be 60.”  
  
“You look great for your age. Tell me your secrets.”  
  
“I’m secretly Benjamin Button.”  
  
“That’s gotta be available in a bottle or something by now.”  
  
Keith threw his head back and laughed, catching the corner of Lance’s smile rounding his face. They fell back into a comfortable silence - a silence Keith was actually an active part of now. It was oddly calming watching them in the mirror, focusing on Lance bobbing in out of view from around his side. The comforting sweep of Lance’s hands down to his lower back could convince him how someone could fall asleep like this. But he was standing up.  
  
Acknowledging vulnerability: check.  
  
Lance’s thumb brushed the hem of his swim trunks at the side of his right hip.  
  
Intimacy*: check  
  
(*For him.)  
  
He brought both of them here and now it just felt wrong.  
  
Definitely not the last time he would take advice from Shiro, but it would just be the last time he took advice from Shiro about those two keywords. The Nope Zone.  
  
Lance pretended to dust off his hands, pulling Keith’s attention back to the spot over his shoulder in the mirror, and set his hands on his hips.  “ _Aaaand_ you are adequately protected from UVA and UVB rays for another day, my guy. Or at least, your back and shoulders. I’ll leave the rest to you and legally note that any sunburn that happens outside of my jurisdiction is therefore not my fault. Dun! DUN!”  
  
Keith smiled, shaking his head as Lance ducked back out of the bathroom.  
  
He was best friends with someone that made the Law  & Order sound out loud.

 

* * *

 

  
Keith waited for Hunk to lock the apartment door, holding the beach bags for him before helping him down the stairs with them.  
  
Hunk turned and patted down his pockets to double check he had everything before taking one of the beach bags from Keith. “How was your thing with Shiro?”  
  
“Huh? Oh, yeah. It went good. We went running together, which he disguises as check point time.”  
  
“Check point time?”  
  
“Y’know, asking about how many food groups I’ve eaten this week, how work is, and telling me to pull my head out of my ass — the usual. Things that could be asked over the phone or through a text but he makes into a dedicated speech in full view of strangers.” He hopped down the last two steps.  
  
“Wow.”  
  
“Yup.”  
  
The second he stepped around the corner to the cars, a car horn broke the afternoon quiet and sent birds vaulting from a telephone wire across the sky. Neither he nor Hunk startled as Pidge laid on the steering wheel for ten more seconds before she sat back down in the passenger seat, revealing Lance sitting in the driver’s side with sunglasses on and his hands resting behind his head. Pidge rolled her window down and half way hung out of it.  
  
_“Get in, losers. It's our beach episode.”_  
  
Keith scratched the back of his head, casually craning his neck back to see if any disgruntled neighbors were about to throw their trash or cat down at them for the noise.  
  
“We literally can’t take them anywhere.” Hunk pouted, scrunching his eyebrows together.

 

* * *

  
  
The drive there was enough alone to leave Keith winded.  
  
Lance and Pidge had every window rolled down and their heads thrown back while the car was stopped at a light, trying to out screech each other at bad car singing. Hunk had a death grip on the door handle and Keith got as far as catching his fingers in the sleeve of Hunk’s shirt to reassure him that they weren’t going die and the surfboards weren’t going to fly off of the roof of the car, but he couldn’t _breathe_.  
  
His throat burned from laughing too hard, coughing from not being able to catch his breath, and his eyes were shut so tight, they hurt. It was a rare occurrence that Hunk allowed Lance to drive his car or Pidge to ride in the front seat, so the two combined together were a lunar eclipse - and for understandable reasons. They were a hurricane in Wal-Mart knockoff Ray Ban sunglasses in neon colors and every song someone would have been embarrassed to be caught still listening to in middle school at top volume. Pidge might as well have not been wearing a seatbelt and Lance had his leg propped up on the side of the door, his knee almost to his shoulder.  
  
Hunk was trying to tell Lance to pull over now and if Keith was a better friend, he may have tried harder to get the words out for him, but again he couldn’t breathe and somehow, in all of the movement, in the one second he willed his eyes to open, he catches Lance’s eye in the rear view mirror. His sunglasses had slid down his nose enough for Keith to be able to see his eyes.  
  
Eyes the color of the clear sky that day.  
  
He winked at Keith before sitting up straight in the seat, leg dropping down properly, and Pidge turning the music down two notches as they pulled away from the light. The moment found its pause, though it was going to take a lot longer before he caught his breath and his lungs weren’t _screaming_ at him. He situated back in his seat, rubbing Hunk’s shoulder before he pulled away. It was a false promise of calm because the moment they hit another lit or Lance switched the car radio to a random station that fuzzed with static and the bass beat out something from the top hits or their childhood, the cycle would repeat. It was a wide and open net.  
  
Everything felt inexplicably close and loud, everything in him buzzed and he wondered if when Shiro had said Keith should meet them - his friends - and that _Keith_ would enjoy their company, if he knew _this_ would happen? These deliriously wild times, riots thrumming through veins. Even if Keith had to be told to pull his head out of his ass, even if Keith took Shiro’s advice out of context and used it in the wrong situations, all of the times he had been right. Did Shiro see this?  
  
Did he know the entire time Keith dragged his feet up to the Holts’ house?  
  
Sure Pidge was fine. Shiro was friends with Matt first, when he eventually met Matt’s infamous, ingenious kid sister who was a lot like Matt. It wasn’t a far stretch of the imagination that Keith could get along with her if he could conceptually get along with Matt. Then it was brought up that she was part of a ragtag team of kids from a shared class that were somehow unnaturally similar and different simultaneously. Hunk _got_ Keith almost from the start, already had some formula of Keith’s idiosyncrasies tucked away, knew how to not rub people the wrong way. Sensed how overwhelming a playdate with his older brother’s friends could be.  
  
How catastrophic it was between him and Lance, did Shiro know then?  
  
Probably.  
  
Knowing Shiro, he waited for the opportunity to remind Keith of his misgivings and the bad static wedged between him and Lance _for nothing_ because this was waiting just around the corner if they’d grow up and talk their differences out like adults. Find their middle ground. Align on the launchpad and maybe they could fly into the stars together or something as equally corny or heroic.  
  
And yeah.  
  
He was best friends with people that sang the _mow, mow, mow, mow_ chords in I Want It That Way out loud.

 

* * *

  
  
If the car was chaos, hitting the sand was nuclear fallout.  
  
Lance literally left them in his sand trail as he vaulted across the beach for the perfect spot.  
  
Not recommended with a surfboard in tow but —  
  
Hunk shrugged his shoulders. “They have to learn somehow.”  
  
They had barely made to the spot Lance had staked before he was laying down his surfboard so he could pull his shirt over his head and ran as fast as his legs could carry him, straight to the ocean like it had challenged him personally. Or it could have been a promise, either way he was above shore line one second and the next he was gone in a wave.  
  
He helped Hunk set up the umbrella, unfold the towels, all of the responsible things Lance couldn’t be bothered with before going My 13th Year. It was his pass.  
  
The one they each got for certain Things personal to them. A waive from doing the sidelines stuff.  
  
Without looking up from the bag, Keith held out his hand for Hunk toss him Lance’s shirt, making sure to fold it before reaching out for Pidge’s to switch it out for her wide brimmed black beach hat Keith proffered from the bag.  
  
“Which one is my-“  
  
Keith pointed to the second beach bag at his side without looking, quietly handing Hunk a bottle of water.  
  
Hunk cooked, Lance organized the field trips, he made sure everybody had what they needed out of the beach bags and shirt, sunglasses, and shoes are accounted for before settling down and leaving anywhere Lance took them, and Pidge was just the smartest of them all and would eventually run the country or moon in the future.  
  
Pidge hunkered down in the beach chair she brought, dusting sand from the knee of her green board shorts before reclining - toes buried in the sand, all of her safely under the shade circle of the beach umbrella.  
  
Distantly, a Shiro compulsion nagged at the back of his brain. Keith looked out to the ocean and squinted, Lance popped out of the water and cupped his hands around his mouth to yell something at Hunk. It was in Spanish, Keith knew that much, but it struck something in Hunk that had a wide grin stretching across his face and taking off his shirt, the intricate tattoos sprawling across his shoulder and chest on full display. He was there and gone in a blink and he could hear the rising pitch of Lance’s laughter from half way up the beach.  
  
They needed this.  
  
Not just Lance.  
  
He fought with Lance once about his unwavering demand to be the center of attention no matter the cost. He was adult enough now to accept and recognize that Lance was their center of gravity. He kept them going and coming back together and trying new things and reminding them of old favorites they’d forgotten. Case in point, he remembered going to a beach (to a lake, he didn’t see the ocean until he was a lot older) a few times as a kid but never retained any sheer enjoyment, bedazzlement with the whole thing like Lance, Pidge, and Hunk did.  
  
Then he got dragged out here, simmering under the surface and mumbling as he shuffled cantankerously through the sand and they broke some kind of dam in him that let loose the memory that yes, one of those times he did have a decent time and that the ocean was nothing in comparison. He got water up his nose at least 20 times between Lance and Pidge practically climbing him or launching their full body weight at him to get him wholly submerged. A full experience included beach hair.  
  
It got him here, where he was completely at peace as he leaned back on his hands on a huge pizza beach towel with Pidge reading a legit tome and watching Hunk and Lance splash each other like kids. He felt himself slide further down the towel as he relaxed, basking in the quieter beat of time before Lance and Hunk dragged them from the shore.  
  
“La _aa_ nce!”  
  
In sync, he and Pidge jerked their heads up, their necks cracking to their right to see the person shouting Lance’s name. Two girls, they had just waltzed right up beside him and he didn’t even notice. Also, he didn’t know them, so part of his brain was yelling danger. And not to judge Lance, but they were beautiful, Lance’s type if he had to be a little shallow and suspicious enough to pin a pattern on Lance. He turned his head in Pidge’s direction, gesturing with his eyes at the pair and mouthing the question of the day.  
  
_Who are they?_  
  
Pidge tucked the brim of her hat back, glancing between Lance and Hunk’s determined run to reach the two girls. _No clue._  
  
Keith did not have a good feeling about any of it. Not to jump to conclusions, but he was absolutely jumping to conclusions, there were two girls waving excitedly to two boys almost jogging up the beach to get to them with grins plastered clear across their faces. He and Pidge weren’t exactly active in the dating game…so…He grabbed a water bottle and uncapped it, throwing it back to wash away the uncomfortable dryness in his mouth. Sand would have been preferred to this.  
  
Hunk and Lance reached the girls, Keith feeling a little more panic as Lance pushed his hair back and looked at the girl that had hollered his name like— like how Lance looked at girls that were his type and receptive to his charms.  
  
“Romelle, you made it!” He threw his arm around her in a hug and as he pulled away, greeting the other girl ( _“You remember Shay, right?” “Yeah, and Hunk?” “Of course!”_ ), his arm slid away from her back to gently hold her elbow for a moment. It stretched from there to where he and Pidge sat, in full view of whatever this was.  
  
Keith felt his face flush as they all laughed at something and Lance amped up his smile, keeping their circle tightly knit. It would have been a relief if sandworms existed in that very moment and decided to come for him — either way, he was dying when Pidge took that moment clear her throat as loudly and gruffly as she could. Hunk, Lance, apparently Romelle, and Shay, if he heard right, turned exceedingly slowly back to them. If only not to have to meet Lance’s or mystery girl’s eyes, Keith mirrored their movement to look at Pidge, her eyebrows disappearing into her hairline.  
  
_I see a bad moon a-rising_  
  
When Keith turned back around, Lance at least had the decency to blush. The tips of his ears and the line of freckles across his nose were tinted pink.  
  
“Feel free to introduce us at any time, we’re not busy.”  
  
_I see trouble on the way_  
  
Lance blanched, his smile awkward as he stuttered and gestured in his friends’ direction. “Right, sorry. This is Romelle.” He glanced back at the young woman that had called out his name, she tucked her hair behind her ear as her smile grew.  
  
“Hello. Sorry for being so rude, yelling right beside you and all. I feel ridiculous for not realizing you were with Lance. He just told me to look for the orange umbrella and call him out of the water once we got here.”  
  
Aaand she had an accent.  
  
_I see bad times today_  
  
Lance was bound to propose to her any second then.  
  
“And this is Shay!” The girl closer to Hunk waved her hand, her eyes crinkled at the corners and, okay, she definitely had one of those faces that was hard to be even remotely frustrated at. There was a calming ease about her.  
  
“Lance and Hunk have spoken frequently about the both of you. It’s nice to finally meet you. Hopefully we haven’t completely crashed your outing.”  
  
Pidge scoffed. “One time Lance managed to let everyone’s beach towels blow into the ocean, the bar has already been set pretty high on what constitutes as a damper on us. I’m Pidge.”  
  
Keith snorted as Lance’s face twisted in embarrassment when Romelle and Shay blinked at him in disbelief before bursting into laughter. Even Hunk had chuckled and quipped in with a, _“And that was the last time we ever let him be in charge of anything too important.”_ He bounced back quick enough, stepping under the umbrella to haul the both of them up.  
  
“And this is why we rarely bring the little troll out in daylight.” Lance slapped his hand on Keith’s shoulder. “And this’s Keith.”  
  
Pidge was good with breaking the ice in her own snarky way, he, respectfully, did not. It only got worse with the more eyes that landed on him. Like right then. He waved. Romelle and Shay politely grinned and he didn’t know whether to be grateful or feel a little snubbed when the attention fell away from him and whatever Romelle, Lance, Hunk, and Shay had been talking about. It wasn’t exactly like he and Pidge were being actively excluded - Shay had stopped the conversation to compliment her hat and Lance had asked them if he and Pidge were ready to get in the water yet. There was a dance to this, merging of friend groups. They may have been on a beach and he may have been pretty fit, but it was still a little overwhelming having everyone wait for him to take off his shirt before heading for the water.  
  
Two steps away from the umbrella and Lance gently knocked his elbow into Romelle’s side with a stupid, charming smirk that she was serving right back at him.  
  
_“Race ya!”_  
  
She matched him stride for stride, laughing as she reached forward to swerve him to the side and get the lead. The action had them both crashing into the sand instead in a pile of limbs as Pidge shot past them, cackling. Romelle and Lance weren’t paying any attention, too busy laughing at each other to even get up.  
  
He felt nausea for being incredibly stupid over making such a big deal out of comforting Lance.  
  
Because, apparently, Lance bounced back on his own with _incredible_ speed.  
  
_There’s a bad moon on the rise_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -the mow mow mows in at I Want It That Way hits at 2:20
> 
> The beach scenes are being split between two chapters, so the next will pick up immediately after this one. I don't want to give anything away plot wise, but any tags applicable will be updated with the chapter, if you have concerns about Keith being right about anything. *eyeball emoji*
> 
> Writing has been a struggle lately, but I really want to see this through. Thank you again for taking the time to read, comment, and give kudos. It's so appreciated. Feel free to chat with me in the comments or on tumblr. I don't really have a soundboard for my fics and I'm hopeless and awkward and desperate for love and I'd love to know what you guys think, what's working, what's not, etc.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pt. 2 Of the beach episode.

If anyone (Pidge) noticed that Keith hung back more than normal, they (Pidge) didn’t say anything.  
  
Not that he disliked Romelle or Shay, his mind was just trying to catch up and adjust. Were they _with_ with Hunk and Lance? Was it eventually going to turn into a double thing while Pidge and Keith kept each other busy? Not that he was totally against it, Romelle quickly proved herself to be as big of a dork as Lance and Keith couldn’t ever really remember seeing or hearing about someone with Hunk that might have been a romantic interest. He wasn’t even sure what Hunk sought in a partner, let alone if he wanted one??? Again, not his business, but it would save him a headache and limit the the probability of Keith putting his foot in his mouth.  
  
God, what if it was all wrong and Shay and Romelle were together?  
  
He had a supreme track record for not handling surprises or guesses well.  
  
(When Lance brought Toast home and asked Keith to guess what her name was, he had promptly spat the dumbest thing his mind supplied him with: “Tuna?” Lance blinked at him, whispered, “What? No. Who taught you pet names?” under his breath before laughing so hard he cried.)  
  
Standardized testing was his own personal hell, so filling in the blanks outside of a classroom was a waste of the time he spent outside of class trying to block out the memories of testing and panic over whether or not he filled in one of those dots dark enough to register on the grading machine.  
  
Like right now.  
  
The sun was out and he was in the ocean with his best friends, and here he was causing himself unnecessary grief.  
  
Which he excelled at at all times.  
  
At least Pidge was merciful enough to dig for her answers when she shoved Lance’s head underwater, leaned her elbow on his head to keep him under. “So, inquiring minds want to know, which of his horrible lines did Lance use on you?”  
  
Lance tipped her balance and shot back out of the water, grabbing Pidge around the middle and slapping a hand over her mouth. “Ha ha ha, she’s kidding. An inside joke that _stopped being funny three years ago, Katie.”_  
  
Romelle snorted.  
  
Actually snorted and even Shay giggled and there was no mistaking the red coloring the tips of Lance’s ears. Keith looked to Hunk, who shrugged, and back to Lance and Pidge where he could literally see the manic grin spread across Pidge’s face despite Lance’s hand still being in the way. She yanked Lance’s hand away, looking up at Romelle with earnest reverence.  
  
“Oh my god, he hasn’t used a line on you.”  
  
Keith really needed to learn her secrets of unspoken revelation because he still can’t figure out how she got that from the flush quickly working its way across Lance’s face and down his chest. All of it served to make Romelle smile grow, perfect in the cloudless day as she flicked a lock of her wet hair back over her shoulder. And yeah, it was plain as day here that something astronomical had to intervene from Lance spitting out one of his dopey pickup lines on someone so….similar to him. Like she would have a response at the ready, funnier and a bit more clever enough to catch Lance off guard and throw off his game and they’d send each other snaps of increasingly cringe-y pickup lines and be one of those couples that were so perfect it felt unsettling to look directly at them.  
  
Romelle shook her head, one of her freckled shoulders lifting up toward her ear. “He hasn’t used a line on me.”  
  
Keith caught snatches of Shay and Hunk’s conversation, Shay asking if this always happened and then, both of them falling into the attitude of commentary newscasters.  
  
“Lance and I met while I was at work, we have a strict policy on customers that hit on the employees and, having been a regular, he knew that beforehand. Why do you ask?”  
  
Keith cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting louder than necessary, “We have a betting pool on which sappy standard Lance is going to use on someone.”  
  
Lance scoffed, slapping a hand against his chest. _“Traitor.”_  
  
“Oooh, now I’m curious.” Romelle rubbed her hands together, her eyes gleaming mischievously as she turned her attention back on Lance. She stepped toward him and brushed her hand down his arm as her body language changed to something graceful and even a little endearing, but mostly - absolutely - beckoning.  
  
_RIP Lance._  
  
Pidge was giddily shaking in Lance’s hold as he froze. It was all a little unfair to Lance in every sense of the word, but it had been a minute since someone had put Lance on the spot and even longer when it was a group effort and Keith was there to see Lance fumble with his words. Lance would get them all back for it later, no doubt. Push and pull, drag and be dragged.  
  
Lance swallowed thickly and cleared his throat. “Y-you really know how to put a guy on the spot, huh?” His weight shifted between his feet as he nervously looked Romelle over and then, back at Keith, Hunk, and Shay. Keith could almost call it a look of asking for permission. Which definitely wasn’t the usual ritual of Lance’s flirt patterns.  
  
Pidge wriggled in Lance’s hold, yanking his attention back down to her. “Performance issues are pretty common. There’s nothing to feel ashamed about, Lance.”  
  
Romelle’s laughter pealed as the color drained from Lance’s face and his eyes grew impossibly wide. Keith fell into Hunk’s side and stage whispered, “Upset of the century, how will he recover?” Hunk and Shay folded like cards next to him, Hunk doing his best to choke back his laughter and Shay’s arms wrapping around her middle.  
  
“ _Oooh_ , you’re all dead. So dead!” Lance shook his head. He yanked Pidge out of the water and tossed her out into the deeper water, brushing his hands off the moment she was completely air borne.  
  
She squawked when she hit the water.  
  
Lance’s face was still red and his voice shook a bit as he stepped into Romelle’s personal space, tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear and turned up the megawatt smile that would make anyone weak in the knees - Keith’s laughter stopped abruptly as he watched with his own set of wide eyes as Lance’s focus zeroed onto Romelle. His eyes were instantly that darker shade of blue, sparking with the knowledge and confidence that he knew the affect he had on people. Took his time to revel in it as he glanced down at Romelle’s mouth and back up to her eyes. Her lips thinned as her face flushed and now everyone was reaping the consequences of challenging Lance at something that he did have game in.  
  
Not that Keith would ever admit _that_ out loud.  
  
Pidge came up sputtering, muttering curses under her breath as she swam back to them.  
  
Just in time to see and hear Lance land his direct hit. The jerk bit his lip in _that way_ , made sure Romelle followed the movement, before he spoke. “There’s not one I can think of that’d be worth your time, to be honest. But I’ve always liked your eyes. That’s what caught my attention about you first.” He dropped his gaze and raised his hand to bashfully scratch the back of his head before meeting Romelle’s eyes again. “I’ve kind of been wanting to tell you that the second I was sure you wouldn’t think I was just waiting until I saw you outside of your job or a flat out creep.”  
  
Pidge made a gagging noise, breaking the atmosphere a bit, but ultimately handed over Romelle’s defeat on a silver platter as her eyes broke contact with Lance’s, only to drop down to his mouth and helplessly open hers to respond back, but failing. It was impressive, Keith had to give Lance that. All of them blinked like fish, Keith felt his own jaw go slack, as Lance pulled Romelle to him, swept his arms under her legs and lifted her up, holding her close for only a moment before -  
  
He tossed her out into the water with a shriek like he did to Pidge.  
  
His plan ultimately failed as Romelle kept a death grip around Lance’s neck, bringing him with her in a great splash and tangle of limbs under the water.  
  
The noise Lance made on the way down had the rest of them dying all over again. Hunk had to put effort into keeping Shay above the water and even Pidge had her head thrown back, arms wrapped tight around her middle. Keith watched as Romelle and Lance came back up, Lance swept his hair and water away from his eyes and hefted Romelle up by her arms and led them back to the shallower water as she caught her breath. And Keith….didn’t hate it so much, Shay and Romelle seemed to fit in with them easily no matter what their context for meeting Lance and Hunk prior to that day was. Whatever they did or said, it scored them an invite on their friend field trip Lance held in very high, sacred regard.  
  
And he trusted Lance.  
  
Despite the number of times he tried to get Keith’s head underwater.  
  
Even as he outlandishly showed off the little trick he and Hunk had where he would brace him himself on Hunk’s thighs, they’d do a little one-two-three gear up bounce before Hunk stood and catapulted Lance up into the air and he would do a back flip. Pidge took her turn, getting so much air, Keith had been a little frantic waiting for her to come back down. It got them a warning whistle from the Lifeguard hut. Even as he tried to kick out farther into the water and quick fingers wrapped around his wrist, careful to pull him back to Lance.  
  
He blinked and suddenly he was being yanked over Lance’s head and Pidge was taking her fighting stance on Hunk’s shoulders. He nearly fell off when Lance stood too fast - a foot coming dangerously close to his nose.  
  
“Hey, no damaging the goods, Kogane.”  
  
“When have we ever played chicken and someone didn’t get a foot in their face or spleen? Go back to get your water wings if you can’t handle it, _McClain.”_  
  
And okay, he was going to pretend he didn’t see Shay and Romelle share a concerned look as he locked his legs over Lance’s shoulders and zeroed in on Hunk trying to tiptoe his way over with Pidge, she had a bloodthirsty gleam in her eye that he didn’t like. Didn’t normally and willingly put himself on the receiving end of, but this couldn’t be helped. There was a challenge and tradition to uphold.  
  
“Winner plays Shay and Romelle! If they want to?!” Lance dove toward Hunk at break neck speed, almost ending the game before it started as Keith teetered on top of him and scrambled to find his balance again.  
  
He didn’t have time to really (not that he thought he could do it without choking Lance), because before he could blink he was catching Pidge’s nimble fingers in his hands and pushing her away with his full weight.  
  
They could have been deadlocked for ten minutes or demolished in ten seconds for all he knew, but they were all falling away and slipping past each other, trying not to accidentally drown each other. Keith could hear Lance’s squawks of indignation at their loss before Keith even resurfaced. He was kind of glad for it, he wasn’t entirely sure he could seriously try to shove Romelle or Shay into the water. Decided it was probably best when he actually saw them in action because they were _lethal_.  
  
If he and Lance had gone down fast, Hunk and Pidge barely made it out of the gate when they tumbled down and Romelle threw up her fists and puffed her chest out in victory.  
  
Shay grinned widely as Romelle slid off of her shoulders and held out a hand to help Pidge find her footing again. “You underestimated us.”  
  
“I like the way you play.” Pidge raised her fist for Shay to knock her own against, a pleased smirk plastered over her face. “It’s nice to actually have a challenge for once. The boys are getting too predictable.”  
  
_“Excuse you?!”_  
  
_“Hey!”_  
  
Lance jerked his chin up, glancing over his shoulder at Keith and winked as they all slowly came back to hovering around each other in a circle. They just existed in the water as other people swam by and the sun beat down on their heads, the whisper of the water lapping at the shore slowing time. The wind picked up then, it crashed in Keith’s ears as his hair whipped around him. Lance and Hunk’s gaze snapped to the horizon, squinting against the sun before grinning at each other. Without a word, Lance dove underwater, swam right between the space between Keith and Hunk without stopping.  
  
Hunk at least took a moment to look at Shay, then Romelle sheepishly. “Not to like ditch you guys or anything, but…” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder and smiled sheepishly. “It’s been awhile since we’ve been able to get out here.”  
  
Romelle raised her eyebrows, grinning. “Lance may not have hit on me, but he talked about the ocean and surfing, even if it was just in passing, in every conversation we had.”  
  
Lance popped up out of the water a few feet away as Pidge swam to Keith and nudged his side with her elbow, grin wide on her face. “Bold of him to mention it with the number of times he still wipes out.”  
  
Keith barely tried and definitely failed to keep Lance from hearing him laugh. There was no point when he’d clearly caught what Pidge had said. Lance scoffed and swam back to them.  
  
“ _Ha, ha,_ very funny.” He rolled his eyes as he stood back up in the water next to Keith. Lance reached up and quickly yanked the hair tie out of Keith’s hair, earning him an indignant, _“Hey!”_ from Keith as his hair was swept wildly around in the wind. “You guys ever see the animated Disney movie, Tarzan?”  
  
Keith took a stumbling step back as Lance’s hand clamped down on his elbow. Keith dropped his weight and pitched to the side, unable to shake Lance off as a strong arm locked around his middle and hefted him halfway out of the water.  
  
“No, do. Not. Lance, I’mnotki _ddi-“_  
  
Lance tossed him into the water, more of an aborted shove since Keith was admittedly bulkier and on the defensive in comparison to Pidge and Romelle. It was still enough to completely dunk him as his feet failed to find traction in the water and sand. He came up out of the water with a pathetic wheeze as Lance happily gestured in his direction.  
   
“Keith’s mullet wet makes him look like baby Tarzan.”  
  
“I hate you,” Keith spat at Lance, biting the side of his cheek to keep from laughing.  
  
Romelle bit her lip, a giggle escaped past the seam of her lips. “You do look _a lot_ like baby Tarzan, though.”  
  
Shay smiled down at him with a tilt to her head. “It’s cute.”  
  
“Thanks, I guess.” Keith cleared his throat and diverted his eyes. He chose to ignore the snicker from Pidge as he felt his face flush.  
  
Lance stopped swimming, Hunk nearly colliding with him on their race back to the shore. He turned and brought his hands around his mouth to yell back at them. “Do not tell him such lies!”  
  
And then, he was flipping back into the water to make up the distance between him and Hunk. He got all the way up to where the water was ankle deep and tried to break out into a run-  
  
He nearly wiped out if it hadn’t been for Hunk grabbing his arm and tugging his forward, back onto both of his feet.      
  
As funny as it was for someone as graceful as Lance to still be a complete klutz, Keith was willing the universe and Lance’s common sense to work with him on this one. Romelle and Shay didn’t seem to be there just for Lance’s benefit or ego with the very clear chance to show off on the water. Lance had taken hard hits and mean scrapes when he wasn’t paying the water enough attention, missing the small changes in its direction or force. When he did pay attention it was… _something_. A something that lodged too many embarrassing, poetic words in Keith’s throat and made him want to tackle Lance the second he was in reaching distance and be a complete idiot about how it looked like he defied gravity and physics and how amazing it was.  
  
It made him want to admit that he saw how happy it made Lance and was glad he got to see it. His happiness was contagious just by association.  
  
When they reached the beach and Hunk and Lance had just begun to paddle out, Keith unfolded the giant beach blanket Hunk had shoved in one of the bags for Romelle and Shay to sit on beside him and Pidge and repositioned the umbrella to shade all of them. He brushed the sand off of his hands and sat back down on his towel.  
  
Pidge lifter her Capri Sun up in his direction, hat and sunglasses back in place. “Thanks, beach mom.”  
  
“Yes, thank you, Keith.”  
  
He looked at Shay and Romelle, sheepishly returning their smiles. “You’re welcome.”  
  
Shay looked out to the water, watching as Hunk and Lance sat up on their boards and started to swim farther out. “Do you not surf?”  
  
Keith shrugged, shaking his head. “I’m not a very strong swimmer.”  
  
“Oh, they tried to teach him once.”  
  
Romelle’s smile widened as she looked back at Keith, amusement inflecting her words. _“Oh?”_  
  
It was a little jarring being on the receiving end of a look Lance gave him coming from an entirely different person. And it wasn’t even that it felt wrong or upsetting coming from a new person, it was seeing her snap so well into a Lance-like position in a conversation.  
  
“Got too close to the shallows, wiped out, and rearranged some corral _with the side of his face.”_  
  
A little of the color left Shay and Romelle’s face as they flinched looking at Keith.  
  
“She makes it sound worse than it was,” Keith grumbled.  
  
“He still has a teeny tiny scar on his cheekbone from it.” Pidge tapped the curve of her cheekbone under her eye.  
  
Romelle brought her legs closer to her body and rested her head on her knees. “And what about you, Pidge?”  
  
“I’ve heard Lance talk about getting too many concussions from wiping out to want to risk my brain. I’ve got plans.”  
  
Keith snorted when Romelle and Shay only blinked at Pidge. “Didn’t think you’d be meeting your future evil overlord today, did you?”  
  
Pidge whacked Keith’s shoulder and snapped in the direction of the water. “Please respect the title. Also, they’ve finally got a decent wave coming so watch. Lance finding out we missed some totally rad wave and bellyaching about it the rest of the day is not something I want a repeat of.”  
  
He noticed a few other people had started to swim out on their boards, but his eyes found Hunk and Lance easily - would have even if Lance wasn’t whooping at the top of his lungs and throwing his fists in the air. Lance laid down flat on his surfboard and shot out, the only time he would willingly leave Hunk behind. It wasn’t something he did maliciously. It was a level of focus they both shared and understood as the tide pulled at their swim trunks and the sun bared down on their boards. The ocean was another family member, a place at the table, making their hair stick out and clump in funny directions and imprinted the smell of salt into their skin - the boys born to islands.  
  
Keith kept his head facing the water, looking slowly from the corner of his eyes to gage Shay and Romelle’s reactions. Shay cheered as they both crested a wave and made it out of the swell, shaking Romelle’s shoulder in excitement. Romelle looked no less excited for them and Keith briefly wondered if they knew what a privilege it was to see them like this. Hunk and Lance were completely different people on a surfboard. It was the closest they felt to home while living on the mainland. The miles and miles of ocean between them and their families back home gone, like they could just paddle a few more feet out and suddenly be brought to the shorelines they had mapped out in their childhood scars.  
  
He definitely didn’t see it for what it was the first time he came to the beach with them.  
  
Early in the days of Keith and Lance making themselves and everyone around them miserable with the exchange of egos and scathing words, Lance had waved his hand at Keith and seethed, _“Man, forget it.,”_ yanked his surfboard out of the sand, and stomped for the water, not looking back once - not even to see if Hunk was right behind him. Keith didn’t realize it wasn’t something he should taint with his anger when he had rolled his eyes the second Hunk and Lance were out of earshot and griped about another opportunity for the Great Lance to show off and rub their noses in it.  
  
The comment had Shiro and Pidge rounding on him with equally annoyed looks. They didn’t even say anything but he got the message loud and clear; he had made the decision to Fuck Up Enormously in that situation. The immense shame slammed home when Pidge had pressed her lips together, the skin turning white, and sat rigidly forward in her chair, and Shiro looked the most disappointed in him Keith had seen before.  
  
To this day, that moment ate Keith alive. He gave up being sneaky and turned to face Shay and Romelle as they watched with rapt attention, nudging each other with commentary every once in awhile. They both started hard when Hunk wiped out - not the softest of falls but definitely not the hardest Keith had seen him take. Lance wiped out twice, once completely on purpose as a younger kid was sort of thrust into his same trajectory. His board went from under him like a banana peel in a cartoon and smacked the water with a mean slap. They managed to get a good set in, even did a few of the showier tricks after five or six serious runs.  
  
It was good. Hunk and Lance were clearly having a blast and Shay and Romelle’s eyes were the size of dinner plates, so his full approval was well and out there.  
  
Eventually, the wind died down and they came back to the shore, their chests heaved to catch their breath as they spoke over each other. Sentences ran together, they finished each other’s thoughts, or didn’t even finish their sentence at all before starting a next one and they understood each other perfectly fine. Even from where he sat, he could hear Lance spilling in and out of Spanish with excitement. Before they were even close to the group, Romelle and Shay were already yelling out to them. They were going to go hoarse before the day was up.  
  
Lance propped his surfboard in the sand and flopped down at the end of Keith’s towel - completely soaking it. “Man, I’m starving.”  
  
Keith kicked out a foot, checking Lance’s shoulder. _“Unnecessary.”_  
  
Pidge sat forward in her chair, pulling her sunglasses down her nose to look at Lance. “Food trucks?”

Hunk closed his eyes and nodded sagely. “Food trucks.”

 

* * *

  
  
By the time they got their stuff secured back in Hunk’s car and made their way to the pier, Keith could hear his own stomach growling and debated breaking off from the group to book it for the nearest truck.  
  
“So, I think Keith and I deserve to know the full story.”  
  
On second thought, it wasn’t _ravaging_ hunger and he could be courteous enough to hang back with the group.  
  
For manners.  
  
Pidge adjusted the brim of her hat before swatting the back of her hand against Lance’s side. “Because no way do I believe it was all of Lance’s charm. I once saw him eat a whole taco with a mountain of lettuce and condiments in two bites, it was disgusting.”  
  
“Gross.” Romelle wrinkled her nose, then smiled back at Lance. “Weirdly impressive, though. I do suppose Shay and I owe you answers after we crashed your outing.”  
  
Lance scoffed and folded his hands behind his head as he walked a little faster in front of them. “I’m going to choose to focus on the positive here. So, _thank you_. At least someone can appreciate that level of dedication.”  
  
Romelle twirled a piece of hair around her finger and Keith found himself a little jealous. She had tons more hair than him and came out of the ocean healthy looking hair and he could literally hear his hair screaming in pain from the tangled number the water did on his much shorter hair. “Like I said, I met Lance when he came into my work. I’m new so I didn’t know he was a regular at the time and as he returned, we talked a bit more each time. He asked if I had just moved here - the accent’s a little hard to ignore, after all.”  
  
“It’s a very nice accent.”  
  
“Hm, thank you, Hunk. I told him I was here for school.”  
  
“Wait, wait, wait.” Pidge came to an abrupt halt, arms waving out in front of her. _“Exchange students, LANCE?!”_  
  
Lance whirled back around, his face flushed as he puffed his cheeks out. “I do not always have an ulterior motive when it comes to pretty girls!” He made a choked off sound when he realized what he had said out loud, Shay and Romelle’s eyebrows skyrocketing to their hairlines. He hung his head and groaned. “Romelle, please finish the story before I die.”  
  
“I said I had, for school. Lance simply wished me luck on my own finals and left. The next time I saw him was actually on campus and that’s when I met Hunk, they were leaving the science building together. Hunk asked me a bit about the program I went through in comparison to his and Lance’s experience with coming here for school under a different organization. They gave us a few pointers that Lance said - and I quote - _“Were more practical and useful than just your everyday run-of-the-mill Buzzfeed lifehack article.”_ They inquired about the other students in my program and how they were doing, that’s when I mentioned Shay, we’re roommates.”  
  
Pidge knocked her elbow into Keith’s side. “They were roommates.”  
  
“You know, you don’t have to reference that every time someone says it.”  
  
“Oh, I absolutely do.”  
  
“We talked a bit about meeting new people and the adjustment period and they kindly offered to suggest things to do around town that were relatively free.”  
  
“It turns out Hunk and I had already met.” Shay grinned and tilted her head in Hunk’s direction. “We have a History lecture together. Romelle told me she knew students that were also here for school and I agreed to meet up with them for lunch. As is the way, we added each other on Facebook and last week Romelle had texted Lance about an event happening in town and whether it was worth checking out and he mentioned you guys were going to the beach if we wanted to come instead.”  
  
Keith chuckled and yanked the brim of Pidge’s hat over her eyes. “Aw, look. They’re reintroducing you to the general public again.”  
  
“Hey Keith!”  
  
He snapped his head up in Lance’s direction where he stood a little farther down the boardwalk yelling back at them. “The one nacho truck is back!”  
  
Keith’s breath stopped and he raised his leg to take a huge step forward before he booked it down the boardwalk when he slowly turned back to face the others. He felt heat crawl over his neck. “So, I’m just gonna- there’s this one truck that-“  
  
Pidge snatched her hat off her head and waved it dismissively in his direction. “Aw, just go, you big dork.”  
  
He smiled self-consciously before waving his hand and tore down the boardwalk. Was he being a little dramatic? Yes. Sort of rude because of the new friend situation? Shiro’s Dad Voice in his head was currently giving him a Talk about it right that very moment. But this particular truck was actually up there with the Loch Ness Monster. Yeah, he was also aware of how that sounded but they found it one night by accident on the boardwalk and when he tried to find it the next day - gone. Totally vanished. None of the regular vendors could remember the name of the truck or the people that ran it and even asked Keith if he was sure it was on _their_ boardwalk and not the one a town over.  
  
His sense of direction and reality were perfectly fine and sound, thanks.  
  
He may have almost bowled Lance over, but….Worth it.  
  
This time, he made sure to take a picture of the truck and even asked if they had a business card he could have (they did, it went straight into his wallet as his money was going out), and maybe went a little too far to ask them if they had a usual place they set up or schedule with a full line behind him (they don’t have a set space or a set schedule besides ‘seasonal’.) He carefully took his nachos from the person on the register and thanked them, ducking out of line for the condiments stand off to the side.  
  
The boardwalk was a little bit crowded, but he managed to get by without being jostled or his food overturned. No nacho would be left behind - he had dreamed of this day for months and nobody was going to take it from him.  
  
“That’s some dedication.”  
  
He couldn’t exactly deny shielding the little paper boat with his food in it as a reflex when it just happened…in broad daylight. Keith looked over the Unknown™, glad he remembered to grab his sunglasses so he could get away with staring and hiding the confusion thing his eyes did when someone kicked off small talk with him. Keith glanced at his plate, wondering if he was about to get judged for the amount of cheese and salsa he was getting or if the guy was just going to jack his food - weirder things have happened on a busy boardwalk. He once saw a seagull fight a grown man for his burger and won.  
  
But he’ll do the courteous thing and go with it. “I’m starving. I had almost convinced myself this place wasn’t even _real_ after I saw it the one time a few months back.”  
  
Longest sentence he had given to a complete stranger in a long time, Shiro would be proud.  
  
“Right?! I can’t tell you how many online food truck forums and instagrams and snaps I searched for more information on these guys.” Random guy threw out his hands and then, brought them back to his hips. “So, uh, were you with those guys?”  
  
“Hm?” Keith stopped pumping more cheese into the little cup to follow the direction of Random Guy’s head nod. His eyes fell on his group - Hunk, Shay, and Romelle had the decency to immediately turn their backs on them, Lance wasn’t even paying attention to them with his eyes glued to the phone in his hand, and Pidge stared them down, pulling her glasses down far enough to even make eye contact. She raised her eyebrows, trying to convey some message to him, and spun back on her heel to head for another food truck. “Oh, yeah. I am.”  
  
“Which o-“  
  
“Sorry, I-“  
  
Random Guy cleared his throat, leaning his hip against the condiment stand. “No, I’m sorry. You were saying something?”  
  
“They’re waiting for me.” Keith held his nachos in one hand and pointed with the other. He still had to get a drink and he didn’t mean to keep anyone waiting because he may or may not have zoned out over _nachos_.  
  
“Oh. Right, right.” Random Guy gave a disjointed wave to Keith as he stepped back into the main flow of foot traffic and over to his group. “Yeah, enjoy the nachos.”  
  
When he made it to them, he held up his spoils. “Sorry, didn’t mean to hold everyone up.”  
  
Pidge yanked her glasses off all of the way, resting the tip of one of the arms against her lip. “Well?”  
  
Keith scrunched his eyes, looking to Hunk. “Well, what?”  
  
Bless Hunk for immediately answering because he didn’t know if he had done anything else wrong. He should have asked Romelle or Shay if they wanted something. That’s probably what it was.  
  
“Did you get his number? Or give him yours?”  
  
Yeah, okay, not at all what he was expecting. “Uhh…What?”  
  
His eyes landed on Romelle and Shay, he would literally burn up in flames if he dared make eye contact with Pidge. Romelle tilted her head to the side and studied him with her hand under her chin. “He did seem interested and he _was_ good looking.”  
  
Great, just great this is absolutely not a conversation he ever really wanted to have in public, with multiple people. _Thanks, universe._  
  
Lance, for whatever reason, chanced a glance up from his phone at Keith and then over his shoulder, like he was somehow going to get a look at this mystery person that was already gone. This was weird.  
  
This _was_ weird, right?  
  
Or was he _making it_ weird?  
  
“Perhaps we’re making Keith uncomfortable because he isn’t interested in boys?”  
  
Hunk rested his hand on Shay’s shoulder, gently telling her, _“No,”_ in a hushed voice. Keith hung his head in his free hand and groaned as Lance choked trying to cover up a snort. He thought he heard Pidge swallow her drink the wrong way from his side and wished for some radioactive sea monster to bust through the boardwalk and drag him to the depths as his entire body flushed. This was his just comeuppance for giving Lance a hard time.  


 

* * *

 

  
The drive back from the beach was the absolute opposite from the drive in.  
  
Hunk took back the wheel, taking his time on turns and in no rush to make the next light or three like they were a personal challenge (Lance). Pidge still claimed shotgun and insisted on not changing the radio station, though Hunk made sure the volume stayed at a low hum - not that Pidge was awake to fight him on it. She had reclined back as far as she could without crushing Lance’s legs behind her. Her sunglasses had slid down far on her pinked nose and her legs were completely scrunched up in the seat.  
  
The quietest Keith had ever seen him move, Lance opened his camera and aimed for Pidge’s reflection in the side view mirror. He did an admirable job of muffling his snickers in his elbow when he finally got the shot he needed and fell back into his seat. Keith caught the fond smile that tugged at the corner of Hunk’s lips as he shook his head, thumbs still tapping along to the beat of Third Eye Blind.  
  
Even Lance fell back in his seat, resting his elbow on the side of the car door to prop is chin in and hum along to the fade out.  
  
_But I still feel you pulse like a sonar_  
_From the days in the waves_  
_That girl is like a sunburn_  
  
It was another moment he could hibernate in, easily.  
  
Even the comfortable ache from swimming and laughing for so long was fully welcomed as he felt the pull of sleep threaten to take him under too.  
  
Doesn’t realize it had until a warm hand was shaking his shoulder and then fell to unlatch his seatbelt as he struggled to adjust his eyes against the sun beaming in through his window and borderline frying his retina. At least Lance wasn’t just opening the door on him this time to watch him either fall out onto the parking lot or do everything in his power _not_ to fall out onto the parking out. He managed to unfold himself from the car without any mishaps before a stretch just sort involuntarily took over his body in the _best way._  
  
Like, reel his soul back into his body and figure out which way was the sky and which was the ground kind of best way, seemingly every joint in his body popping and every muscle relaxing as he took a moment to lean against the car as he got his bearings again. Lance came around from his side of the car and looked Keith up and down with his eyebrow raised amusedly.  
  
“You doing good over there?”  
  
Keith sighed and flashed him a thumbs up.  
  
He’d had a good time.  
  
A really good time.  
  
And usually by now, as he helped Hunk unload the bags from the back and double checked to make sure nobody left a damp towel in the car (again), the fuzzy, comfortable bubble would have popped. Pidge would have snatched her bag and hat, thrown a _“Later, losers.”_ over her shoulder, and sped off in her car. And he would have left right after helping Hunk carry in stuff.  
  
It was usually the way of operations.  
  
Instead, Pidge stood at the bottom of the stairs just blinking at them. Like for the life of her she couldn’t figure out what went next. It was this unspoken tenderness that sometimes they all just somehow agreed on a molecular level to hover around each other for a little while longer. The little ball of unease slowly unfurled itself in his stomach watching Lance come up behind Pidge and help her get on his back as he made the usual _“What have you been eating?”_ joke but jogged up the stairs like she weighed nothing.  
  
He was a little envious.  
  
Not because he’s got it _that bad._  
  
Because that would just be a little too much.  
  
But in that way where he missed those days when he was small and young enough to be carried inside if he fell asleep in the car or just flat out pretended to be dead to the world so he could be carried in. Can’t remember if he ever truly appreciated what he had as a kid the few times someone did.  
  
Lance bounced up the last couple of steps, despite the multiple occasions he had been lectured not to and why while carrying someone, singing random bits of _Never Let You Go_ while Pidge just held on tighter and laughed into the shoulder of his t-shirt. It sent Pidge’s flip flop right off of her foot to go end-over-end back down the stairs. Even pulled a low chuckle from Hunk as it somehow managed to gain unreal momentum and sailed right between them as they followed up behind.  
  
They managed to get everyone in - no flip-flop or soggy towel left behind - everything kind of pressed in on them, something close and cozy even as the sun soaked the soft white colors of the walls in gold and, yeah, he was getting sappy but listen, friend domesticity.  
  
_Friend domesticity._  
  
It felt like Christmas as a kid. He was sappy and it was a gift.  
  
Lance dropped Pidge onto the couch (who immediately flopped onto her stomach to shove her face into the cushions and groan tiredly) to help Hunk and Keith hang up the towels in the bathroom. Everything was salt water and sunscreen and Lance tapping the bridge of his nose to tell him to get a look at himself in the mirror and Hunk being the one to actually do something helpful besides giggle at the pink blooming over his nose and the high points of his cheekbones to chuck a bottle of aloe vera over to him. Hunk struggled through a huge yawn that took over his whole body to say he was going to crash for a nap for like two weeks.  
  
In the short time they’d been gone and he’d made his way back to the front door, Pidge was KO’d, she had turned to her side with her face tucked into the back of the couch cushions and cocooned into the blanket they left on the back of the couch.  
  
Keith envied that nap.  
  
He needed to get that kind of sleep as soon as possible.  
  
And that unease, the apprehension of breaking that moment to fish his keys out of his pocket was really something he needed to get over because he couldn’t just stick around _all of the time._  
  
“You don’t have to leave.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
Hunk poked his head out of his bedroom doorway, his eyebrows scrunched in a pout. “Yeah, stay and nap, dude. Naps after swimming and lunch are incredible.”  
  
Naps after swimming and laughing and eating are pretty incredible, but-  
  
“I can just nap at my place? Pidge already crashed on the couch.”  
  
Because he was smooth and totally not a sad loner.  
  
Lance snorted and stepped up to him, dropping his hands to Keith’s shoulders and squeezing. “Keith, you’re not going to believe this, but I have a perfectly good bed that could easily fit two people. What kind of hosts would we be if we just sent ya home or showed you a random spot to curl up in on the floor. What. Kind of. Hosts.”  
  
“ _Yeah,_ what kind of hosts?”  
  
“Uh, you don’t have to-“  
  
Lance shrugged his shoulders. “Look I get it, I’m like a top notch nap buddy and all-around catch. It can be a little intimidating. But if it would make you feel any better you can take my bed and I can just nap with Hunk because honestly anybody would be out of their mind not to want to be with the world’s best cuddler.”  
  
“Aw, thanks, Lance.”  
  
Keith rolled his eyes, but huffed out his defeat as he tossed his car keys onto the dining room table and shucked off his flip-flops. Hunk pumped his fist before ducking back into his room and Lance rubbed his hands together.  
  
“Peer pressure is a beautiful thing, my dude. But also, maybe get your keys and put them somewhere else?”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Toast is going through a phase.”  
  
Keith safely tucked his keys into his bag beside his wallet and followed Lance back into his bedroom and if he wasn’t so tired and at ease, he probably would have made it a Thing™, but the only thing that was currently stopping him now was asking Lance if he needed to change out of his swim trucks to not mess up Lance’s sheets.  
  
“Nah, man. I need to change them later anyways. Besides, we’re like 98% dry and I’m feeling really lazy.” Lance starfished down onto his bed with a small bounce and used his foot to kick the blanket folded at the end of the bed up to catch in his hands. He flicked the ends of the blanket to unfold and spread it across the bed, wiggling his eyebrows when he was satisfied with his work and lifted an edge up for Keith to get under.  
  
Keith shook his head, folding his arms as he shifted his weight back. “Is everything an event for you?”

“It is when I’m trying to convince pretty grouches to nap with me.”  
  
_“Okay,”_ Keith scoffed, the sound weaving into a snort as he lowered onto the bed. “That’s enough of that.”  
  
Lance only chuckled in response and yanked Keith the rest of the way under the blanket, locking his arm around Keith’s waist and folding his body over Keith’s. A punched out breath left him as Lance’s hand brushed down the front of his t-shirt and he definitely didn’t miss the way Lance had tucked his chin over the top of his head. He tried to shift his weight, redistribute it in a more comfortable position but it just wasn’t happening.  
  
_“Lance.”_  
  
He ducked his nose into Keith neck. “Aw, we can’t spoon? I _never_ get to be the big spoon, if I cuddle with Hunk and try it I feel like a little jet pack.”  
  
Keith laughed, the sound sudden, and louder than he planned, striking Lance’s bedroom wall and bouncing back to them and through the rest of the apartment. The image so clear in his mind’s eye of Lance trying to be the big spoon with Hunk, his brows knitted together in concentration and maybe the tip of his tongue peeking out from his lips in determination. “Yeah, no. We’re not doing that. Sorry. ”  
  
Lance groaned, flopping away from Keith to lay on his back. His pillows hissed out air with the force of the movement and deflated while Lance pouted up at the ceiling. “Killjoy.”  
  
“Hm, yep. I have a reputation to keep.”  
  
“So, like, is cuddling at all off the table or?”  
  
“Does it really matter that much?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“You sure do ask that an awful lot.” Lance scratched his chin and shrugged his shoulder. “Because behind Hunk and Toast and my siblings or mom, you’re really good at cuddling. Also, I can hear you rolling your eyes and you can’t change my mind or deny it because I got a little piece and now I need it more. I _neeeeed_ it.”  
  
“Fine, fine. Geez. How did you want me?”  
  
“With a little more enthusiasm.” Lance sat back up and looked Keith up and down before he reached forward to pull Keith closer, guiding his arms and legs until Keith had his head and upper body rested on his chest. He flopped one of his legs over Keith’s and guided Keith’s left arm over his body and curved over his side and it…..wasn’t terrible.  
  
It wasn’t the inescapable closeness of Lance gluing the entire length of his body to every stretch and curve of Keith’s and not the awkward stiffness of keeping to their own sides of the bed. Lance helped him find a comfortable position for his right arm, letting out a deep breath as Keith nodded against his chest that this was okay and settled deeper in the mattress as the blanket was positioned evenly back over them. The smell of ocean and sunscreen and wind in this chill bubble around them as that tiredness in the car pulled on his eyelids and eased his muscles, the faint motion of waves still gently rolling over his body. Everything settled with them, the only thing he could hear was Lance’s heartbeat and his breathing and he was embarrassed about the touch starved thing that he may have, but it just makes this _oh so_ much better.  
  
“Y’know if you ever find your person to date, I’m gonna need a best friend contract clause that says I still get to have platonic cuddles because this shit is _good_.”  
  
Even if Lance seemed to have read his mind, he frowned. “You can’t be serious.”  
  
“110%, Keith. I will not be robbed of a great little spoon if they don’t technically want to full on spoon.” Long fingers carefully worked their way through his small ponytail.  
  
“I’m pretty sure little spoons are supposed to be _actually_ shorter than you.”  
  
“And you are.”  
  
Keith sat back up to glower down at Lance. “Two and a half inches doesn’t count.”  
  
“Three, actually, and it totally does. My legs are longer and my shoulders are broader.”  
  
“Less talking, more napping.” Keith puffed out a breath and dropped back into his position over Lance’s chest.  
  
“I accept your defeat.”  
  
“Nope, that’s not what’s happening.”  
  
“Hmmm, but it is.”  
  
“Lance, what would it take to get you to stop?”  
  
“Letting me get the last word in, duh.”  
  
. . . . .

 

. . . . . .

 

. . . . . . .

  
  
“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it, Keef?”  
  
Keith sighed heavily, shaking his head against the soft fabric of Lance’s t-shirt. Toast popped up on the bed, letting him scratch his fingers down her back before she made herself at home curled up on the pillow beside Lance’s head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Buzzfeed articles though, especially those test ones. Anyways, will the author let Lance and Keith live, tune in next time to find out! (Outlook not so good) lol
> 
> I stared and edited and almost scrapped this entire chapter too many times, I don't want to look at it anymore. I feel like the writing plateaued, but it is the longest chapter update yet and I hope you guys enjoy it. Kudos, comments, etc. are so, so appreciated.
> 
> Come say hi to me on [tumblr](https://plaxhums.tumblr.com)! I've decided to open prompt requests.


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